Foxfirered
by DitzCat
Summary: Voldemort is a problem of the human world. When something arises that threatens the very fabric of magic itself, a new set of heros must be found. All are different to what has come before, and the wildfire's burning bright as a fox foresees what is to co
1. Flames

I've been in a blood and darkness mood of late. This came to me and I could not resist from writing it. I don't know how often I'll actually get to write, since I have started my Trials for my HSC. I realise people who aren't Australian probably won't understand, so just take it that they're a very important series of tests and exams. And then in a few months, there's the HSC proper. Add in the fact that my house is being renovated and I've been kicked out to stay at my grandmother's.well, it all makes for some dark bitter twisted writing. I don't think I can write fluffy. I only get the dark bitter brooding angstridden plotbunnies that are dying from TB. Coughs Well, maybe not quite. But you know what I mean. Set in 6th year.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
There was just the thought. Just the one. Once more, the limp battered body picked itself up and dragged forward a few more inches. It had had paws once, it was sure of it. Weak hands scrabbled at the wet earth, clawing little divots of black mud free onto its slender fingers, nails chipped and broken. Up again. A little bit more ground gained. Worth the pain to move. Worth the pain to finish the thought and rest. Oh, rest. What a word. How long had it been since rest? Oh so very, very long. It couldn't even remember what it was like, but the concept was absolutely heavenly. A whisper of something dark ran through its mind and it froze, crouching close to the ground. Nothing came of it, so the figure continued its determined stubborn movement. Drag. Slump. Drag. Slump  
  
And there was the pain of course. Great glittering crescendos etched in sapphire sparks. Funny, it had always thought pain would be a pulsing red.much like a wound. A sound that was more a yelp of pain then a laugh escaped its mouth. Funny the things that go through your mind when you're dying. But they are only fireflies on the edge of the all consuming void that is the thought. Dancing flickering inconsequential things. Nothing when compared to the thought. Darkness drawing its mind in and flowing through it like spilled ink.  
  
Ink. There had been ink once, it was sure of it. Black and the scritter of quills across creamy parchment. Feathers, owls and golden glows. Creams and browns and tawny earthy colours, bisected with swooping black lines. Like butterflies of script. Swirling and dancing, making words and phrases flow. Conjurations and spells. Incantations. Magic words, even the letters seeming to have a life of their own. Solemn drone of Latin, pertaining to a higher purpose. Old language. But there's always older still. The harsh consonants of Egyptian. The lilt of Greek. The rasp of Sumerian. And back and back. To when there were no words at all. Cat's hiss and owl's gentle hoot and fox's high banshee shriek. Midnight creatures know magic best. It's the darkness in their blood. And they can see in the dark.  
  
Darkness. It was too familiar with the concept. There were.things that lurked in the dark. Nasty biting hurting things. That hurt it. And scratched and clawed and bit. Making the sapphire sparks fly and sometimes edge towards violet as the blood was spilled. Laughter. Not its, no, never its, just one of the things that hovered around the outside of the thought. Whispers that it had become able to ignore as the burning imperative of the thought filled it and made it haul its nearly useless aching body towards whatever it was the thought commanded.  
  
Red hair tangled in a mass down the curve of its white body, slashed with blacks and reds of other things less innocent. Dark crusted lines of blood and sweat crisscrossed in a dangerous game of tic-tac-toe, leaving barely a square of unmarked skin. The signs of knives and whips and blades and heat. It was cold here.  
  
And then somehow it knew it had reached the place. A slip and a sigh and fur sprouted rapidly, blossoming to cover white skin like poppies in a field of snow. A fox lay there for a moment, shook its pointed muzzle dazedly and then crawled through the edge of the woods. Past the groundskeeper's cottage, and up the grassy slope to the school. Through a door someone had left open, slipping past the chattering students by keeping to the darker shadows. The fox watched them with bright black eyes, quivering with agony but knowing it would be over soon. It waited, panting noiselessly for breath, narrow jaws opening to reveal gleaming white teeth curved and pointed for killing and tearing. And then something unplanned and unexpected happened.  
  
"Wot's we got here? Heyheyhey!" A grinning twisted face appeared in its field of vision and the fox yipped before cowering backwards into the dark corner it had found. "It's an ickle foxie! Aw, look it! Come out, come out, wherever you are!" The fox bared its teeth in defiance, and then nipped sharply at the hand that came in after it. "OI! That's not nice!" The fox managed to get past the hooting poltergeist and fled, brush streaming behind it, body close and down to the ground. A storm of things clattered behind it, hitting the ground and the fox forced its aching burning body to dodge and twist and jump the falling items. It fled among the students gaining screams of surprise and then yells of annoyance as Peeves continued to target the lithe red furred body.  
  
With a yelp and a whine, the fox shifted upwards and flung itself at the one who had always protected it. Draco Malfoy went down in a crash of limbs as a redhaired missile dove at him. He almost swore and struck out at the person, until wide black and red eyes met his silver grey ones. And then anger took him over as he saw her. He brought his wand up, one arm protectively cradling the girl and yelled out a hex. "Impedimentia!" Peeves froze and Draco slowly got up, holding the red haired girl to his side.  
  
She growled at the frozen and shocked poltergeist, baring her teeth. "Kill you! Yarp!" She was small and lithe, hair spilling back from her forehead in an elegant widow's peak. Her hair shone and shifted in the candlelight like flames itself, untamed tendrils clung to her face and the whole liberally streaked with mud, leaves, brambles and blood. She looked like a wild, untamed spirit caught for merely a moment in the cloistered stone walls of Hogwarts. She looked like she didn't belong anywhere with walls, anywhere that people lived and loved and worked. Somewhere far distant where the rustle of leaves was the loudest sound, pierced occasionally by the dying scream of a rabbit. The twitter of birdsong and the sound of the wind through the trees. Not here. She swayed on her feet, teeth bared and eyes gleaming as she lifted her head in wordless defiance of them all.  
  
"Vulpe, what the hell." Draco looked around at his wide-eyed peers. "Oh, do close your mouths. You'd think you'd never seen a naked woman before. Do grow up." Vulpe whined and he stroked her hair. "Not you, pet." She exhaled noisily in a mix of contentment and relief, then pushed her face into his chest, almost purring with happiness. Small darts of her tongue tasted his collarbone where it showed above the curve of his school shirt. He held her off from him for a moment and his eyes paled to icy slits of rage as he saw the wounds on her body. "Come, Vulpe." She twisted her head and looked at him carefully, before sighing and shifting downwards to her fox form. He picked her up and walked quickly to the infirmary, leaving Peeves floating in the hallway like a child's ballon and the rising tide of whispers swirling.  
  
Vulpe pushed her head inside his shirt, and nipped lightly at his skin. He smiled slightly and caressed her intelligent pointed head. It would be.if not well, at least alright. Black tipped brush swept along the angle of his strong arm and she whined again, small black-stockinged paws pressing against him. He walked into the infirmary, knowing but not caring that students from all four houses were staring after him.  
  
"You're being terribly untidy, Vulpe," he murmured to her. She gave him a look of reproach. "Bleeding all over the place like that." She snorted through her nose, and then bit down sharply on his wrist. "I think I deserved that." he chuckled slightly. She gave the wounded area a lick to seal the torn skin. A momentary sparkle of red and the teethmarks disappeared. He tapped her nose with a finger, reprimanding her and her eyes crossed to look at it, before an agile pink tongue licked it too. "You are the most unmanageable female I have ever had the misfortune to encounter. You manage to irritate me more then that mudblood, Granger." She bit down hard on his finger. "And we all know your opinion of me calling people that name. You did not have to reinforce it with your teeth." Her bark showed her low opinion of that statement. "Well, you would be right. You actually did." Her mouth fell open in a silent laugh. "Vixen," he said with true fondness.  
  
"Mr Malfoy, and what brings you to the infirmary?" Madame Pomfrey bustled up and Draco kept walking to a spare bed.  
  
"Be human, Vulpe." He placed her on the spotless white sheets and the fox looked at him with fear. "I will stay here, and I will watch you as you have watched me so many times. Be human." A shiver of trepidation rustled her tawny red fur and then she changed. Her coiled whipthin body shivered into humanity with a sigh. "Who did this?" He stroked the curve of her back, fingers slowly tracing the lines of blood.  
  
"Can't tell you, little dragon mine. Can nevereverver tell you some things." Vulpe yawned. "Lost so dark, the blood wells up. Knives to glint and flame to burn." Suddenly he grasped her jaw and forced her mouth open, confirming what he thought he had seen. Holes where sharply pointed canines should have dropped in deadly gleaming curves. The bastards had taken her fangs. Red and black eyes watched him with amusement as he turned and punched the wall with a curse bit back behind his lips. "Pain like butterflies. So pretty." She arched her back, stretching and some of the scabbed over wounds broke open, sprinkling the sheets with red droplets. Pomfrey gasped in horror, the first sound the woman had made since Vulpe had taken on her human form. "Little dragon do not fret for what you cannot change, yarp." She barked once, then Snape came in with a rustle of his black robes. "Severus severe and sombre, came to see the foxling bite?" He frowned at her and then went to the side of the bed.  
  
"Who did this, Vulpe?"  
  
"I'll give to you the answer the Dark Lord gave me. Do not ask for what you cannot stand, darling boy." She reached up and patted his cheek comfortingly. "Voldemort crossed me one too many times of late, I have been most vexed. Do you know his snake tasted just like chicken?" She laughed in barking gasps.  
  
"You ate his pet snake?" Draco sat down on the bed next to her and howled with laughter. Vulpe crawled into his lap and smiled up at him as his fingers started to comb through her hair.  
  
"I did. She swore and spat and hissed, but I won." She caught up his hand and studied it intently. "I won, Reynard take it, I did. Damn snake hissing and spitting venom and eating my mice thank you very much. I crawled down her throat and ripped her apart from the inside." She sucked on one of his fingers thoughtfully, before licking his palm. "Been so long, dragon. When can we go hunting again? Forgotten what you taste like." Snape coughed. Her eyes flicked upwards. "Oh, don't expect me to act human. Because I'm not and I refuse to act like it. And I like the way my dragon tastes."  
  
"Yes, Vulpe, we know you're not human and no one would dare accuse you of being so." Snape looked down his nose at her and she smiled back with a gleam of amusement in her eyes.  
  
"Bite, snicker, snap oh dark and brooding one. Would it kill you to wash your hair once or twice a year? Do you melt in water? I'm pretty sure you can't have forgotten the time I upended a bucket of water over your head back in your third year at this godsdamned heap of stone and spells." Draco snorted back laughter even as he started to bandage her wounds with a practiced hand. Snape's eyebrows went upwards. "I really do abhor this place. Like cats."  
  
"And we do know how you despise and loathe the wretched bundles of fur and claws."  
  
"And dogs."  
  
"Couldn't forget them."  
  
"Stupid whiny useless bootlickers. Yarp!"  
  
"Quite." Draco rolled her onto her stomach and she kicked out at him lazily. Pomfrey watched them with a type of horror. "Never did like dogs. They're so incredibly useless when it comes to magic."  
  
"And who wants a dog when they can have a fox?"  
  
"Indeed." Snape coughed again, and a pair of gray eyes and a pair of black on red swung to look at him.  
  
"If Vulpe is staying.here, in human form for an extended length of time, it might prove advisable if she had some clothing." Vulpe blew him a kiss and he sent her a withering glare. "Who helped you out? I know you could not escape the bonds by yourself." Vulpe gazed at him inscrutably, weighing up her options.  
  
"A vampire. Dark and hurting with hair like the stars of the night he walks in and tired, so tired." Her voice took on a singsong lilt. "Beloved sin come again with the sweet darkness rolling in like storms over the tops of the trees." She got up and swayed slowly, head upturned and eyes closed. "Darkness pressing in like a lover's caress and the sting of the ice cuts to the bone when the lover is gone. Blood spilling on innocent hands to corruption and the lightning strikes where it will. Fire blazing three and three and one, all with their part to play." Her voice rang upwards. "Delirium singing hand to heart and the dragon takes wing on the light of a virgin's prayer. Fire swept close like butterflies in autumn." Flames crackled along her skin. "The burning is coming and we are not ready. The earth weeps for her children of midnight and magic will flee if balance is not righted." She looked at the door as Dumbledore came in and yipped with laughter. "Child of light, turn your head and hide your eyes. The Darkness coming is worse then this pitiful fool you have neglected to kill. You have a problem with killing him for some reason. Any animal could tell you that you don't let a snake keep its head." She twisted back to Draco and swayed over to him, before falling forwards.  
  
"Vulpe, goddamn it!" He caught her awkwardly and she cooed at him, wrapping one of her legs around his. "I thought we did settle this."  
  
"Nevereverver, dragon mine." She licked the side of his face. "You're mine before you were the snake's. fire in your heart and soul, and you'll nevereverver get me out." She bit down on his ear, purring at the taste of blood. "I'm tired and I hurt and I'm oh so sick of being stuck like this." Draco held her then as she started to sob. "I want to go home!" She wailed, voice getting higher and higher as it approached a scream of heartsick agony.  
  
"Vulpe! Quiet!" She reacted to his tone and slithered down to the floor, pressing her face to the ground and stilling her whimpers. He knelt down beside her and lifted her into his arms. "Well. Professor Snape if you would be so kind as to explain to Headmaster Dumbledore what is going on here." He lifted an eyebrow and Snape stared back with a blank face. "What I find amazing is that she managed to get through the Forbidden Forest stinking of blood like she did."  
  
"Vulpe has always shown an amazing aptitude for tenacious cleverness in getting her own way," Snape said dryly. "Well, Albus, I suppose you would be needing some type of explaination." Draco cradled the crying Vulpe to his chest where she soon changed to her fox form. "Mr Malfoy, please take Vulpe to the Slytherin Dormitories. While I am aware that it is not customary school practice to have members of the opposite sex in the dormitories, I hope I can trust you, Draco."  
  
"Of course, Professor." Draco nodded as he stood. Vulpe leapt from his arms to land on the floor in a scitter of claws. They set off together, fox limping at the heels of the white haired boy who continued to talk to her in quiet tones.  
  
"Shall we retire to my office, Severus?" 


	2. Wildflowers

Vulpe slinked along at Draco's heels, feeling better then she had for a long while. She was safe again. No one ever in all her years of life had held with affection and tenderness. Draco was hers and she was his, and she only felt right now when she was with him. It had been a slow thing, the battered fox and the ice child but they suited each other.  
  
"So, what are you off to now, Malfoy? The excitement of someone throwing themselves at your wan pale body just too much to take?" Harry Potter asked, Ron flanking him silently, both with their arms crossed. Draco eyed them coldly, but Vulpe snarled.  
  
"Hush, Vulpe. I don't even hear it anymore." Draco started to move past. Vulpe shifted upwards and leapt for Harry's throat, fingers curved and mouth open for his throat. "VULPE!" He grabbed her by the back of the head, even as Harry fired a hex at Vulpe. She stood on her two feet and gave them a disdainful stare, entirely unaffected. She spat at Harry's feet with great accuracy.  
  
"Wizard's magic. Pfffft. Weak." She kept her gaze steady on the shocked Harry and Ron. "You can let go now, little dragon mine. Promise not to kill or maim them."  
  
"No blood, no bruises no nothing, fox." He laced his fingers tighter in her hair.  
  
"Oh, you have gotten good at this." Vulpe laughed.  
  
"I had an excellent teacher."  
  
"Oh, stop it. You'll make me blush." She lifted her foot and ran it up the inside of his leg. "Did all my other lessons stick as well?" They shared an amused and conspiratorial glance. Harry and Ron choked as her foot rubbed up and down Draco's leg. "I do love you, mine."  
  
"Love you as well, you evil vixen."  
  
"Awwww. I feel all warm and tingly." She purred and his fingers scratched gently at the back of her head. "You have about a million years to stop doing that." Her eyes rolled up and her mouth fell open slightly under the pleasure of it.  
  
"So, no hurting the annoyingly alive and tactless heroes of the hour?"  
  
"Anyone should be a hero, it's me. You have any idea how foul Nagini tasted?" Harry started, eyes going wide. "Icky. But I think possibly she could have gone down better with some fava beans and a nice Chianti." They both laughed at the muggle movie reference, a reminder of a stolen afternoon that had been paid for in screams and blood. Harry looked at Vulpe warily. "So, I won't hurt them. Can we have them to dinner?"  
  
"Have them for dinner, you mean and I don't think they'd taste very good." Draco let go and she swayed slightly, sharp angles of her face glowing under the candlelight. She slitted her eyes and stepped up to Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.  
  
"Did you know, dragon mine, that these two are responsible for quite a number of lashings? Tom would be so upset when he came home and he'd failed once more to kill the precious Boy-Who-Lived and he'd take it out on a warm body. Last year was the worst. I screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed. . .nothing was too painful, nothing. You know what it is to be skinned alive? To have knives slip in under your skin and lift it, severing the delicate connections oh so gently because they wouldn't want to have a hole in the fur?" Her voice was slow and smooth as the two Gryffindors took a step back. "I believe Narcissa still has it. It was her consolation that Lucius had gone to Azkaban. Of course, he escaped soon afterwards, as we all know. And I was just the perfect thing to vent his rage on. I bleed and bruise so prettily and I'm well nigh indestructible." She turned back to Draco, who had gone white with fury. "Let's go."  
  
"Indeed, fox." They left, Vulpe's back straight. "You can be who you are here. You don't have to stay in this form," he said gently. Vulpe sighed.  
  
"It has been so long. . ."  
  
"And I always loved seeing you that way."  
  
"I adore you sometimes." Vulpe stepped back and raised her head to the ceiling, lifting her arms. Soft silky foxred fur flowed down her arms and the rest of her body. Black gloves and stockings of short fine fur ran to her elbows and just a bit above her knees. The facets of her face shifted, becoming a bit more animal. Her fangs came down and her fingers sprouted claws. A fine brush of a fox's tail swept the stones behind her as her hair lengthened to hang just above her waist, a long waterfall of gleaming firered threads. "I had almost forgotten how different it is to be myself. Just me." She breathed in the scents deeply and then they walked to the Slytherin Common room with him. They were hit with hexes inside the door. Vulpe filled with rage and when the blood lifted from over her eyes, there were several moaning bodies on the ground. Draco was leaning against a wall, nearly pissing himself with laughter. "Um. Do you think Sevvy would believe me if I told him I slipped and didn't see them coming?"  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Severus Snape followed Dumbledore up to the Headmaster's office. He stood at the door while Dumbeldore went round to his desk and sat down. "Well. Do sit down Severus and explain to me why a girl who can also turn herself into a fox turns up at my school more then half dead and then manages to get up and walk away with only rudimentary medical attention?"  
  
"The answer to the last part of the question is will power," Severus said as he sat down in the chair. "And she's not a girl. She's. . .an elemental, of a type. A fox spirit. She was trapped quite a few years ago, long before I joined the Deatheater circles, and was one of Voldemort's more favourite playthings. She doesn't die, you see. After Hrry's fifth year, he. . ." Severus's lips tightened, "skinned her alive. The form that she has isn't her own, not really. It's just what Voldemort prefers to look at. Soft, pliant, delicate. Though I can assure you, Vulpe is anything but. I couldn't begin to tell you how many times I've seen her lift her head off the floor, glare at Voldemort and tell him to go and do something that I'm quite sure is anatomically impossible. Or to kiss her arse." He chuckled slightly. "Of course, that always ended up worse for her, but she never broke. I don't think the word is in her vocabulary."  
  
"She sounds like an interesting individual."  
  
"I think you'll like her. Of course, sometimes she acts a little peculiar. . ."  
  
"I am quite good at drawing in the blanks, Severus, and I am sure a lot more has happened to her then you are willing to admit to me."  
  
"It's her business."  
  
"Quite. But I do not think many would hold it against her. She may not have broken, but she might have. . .bent a little." Dumbledore steepled his fingers together under his chin. "What is her connection with Draco Malfoy?"  
  
"They act like they are lovers, and I suspect they were sometime in the past. But I think it is more like an older sister taking care of a younger brother. They protect each other and have been the only comfort for each other for many years. Draco used to tend her hurts, and she'd say something to draw Lucius's attentions from his son to herself. They have an understanding." Severus leant back in his chair, hands laced together in his lap. "They would quite possibly die for each other. And for a foxspirit that is a great commitment to make to a mortal."  
  
"So, how did she come here, and why?"  
  
"I suspect that if you went down to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, you'd find a trail of blood from here to Malfoy Manor. . .but she was probably strong enough to cloak it as far as Hogsmeade. As to why? That's easy. Draco is here."  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Severus stepped into his House's Common Room to be greeted by the sight of Vulpe dozing in front of the fire on the hearthrug, coiled up around herself. And then her tail flicked. Her tail? She hadn't ever. . .of course. Draco would have convinced her that she was safe. So she had taken a more comfortable form. Her eyes flickered open and she regarded him thoughtfully. "Hello, Severus." She sat up and stretched, arching her back, her hair pooling on the ground and flaring with a type of hidden life.  
  
"It would be nice if you wore clothes while at this establishment," he said in a slightly reproving tone. She stuck her tongue out at him.  
  
"I don't like clothes. They rub my fur the wrong way."  
  
"Quite. However I must insist. . ." She stared at him. He sighed. She turned over ostentatiously on her side, presenting him with a curved line of shoulder. She looked entirely out of place in the cold shadows of the Slytherin dorms. All red and blazing with vitality against the backdrop of black stone, cool greens and dead silver gleaming against the firelight. . .which was green in colour and not the honest natural red of living flame. And then he saw an outflung arm from behind a couch. "Vulpe. . ."  
  
"Yes, oh most wise and beneficent House Master?"  
  
"Why is there a hand. . ." he stepped over and looked behind the sofa, "and a student lying here with the very definite signs of your displeasure on him? There are in fact five of them."  
  
"And another ten upstairs in the dorms hiding from me."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because they're nasty and biting scratching clawing." Her tail moved restlessly. "They tried to hurt my dragon. He's mine."  
  
"Ah. Well, in that case they indubitably deserved all they received." Severus sat down in one of the chairs. She stirred again and then crawled into his lap, fox shaped. "At least you have some control and regard for proprietary." Black eyes regarded him balefully, then closed as he slowly scratched at her ears. He thought back to the first time they had met. . .  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
A day out in the countryside and he'd taken his broom and flown far away. Away from the cold perfect silences that were his home and out to the cleanness of the open air. He'd landed in a small copse and lay out on the grass, breathing in the thankful silence and the freedom from all the unsaid words and cutting glances. His house was cold and he'd closed his eyes to relish the warmth of the sun on his face, wildflowers nodding gracefully in the light breeze. Like dancers, moving to an ethereal ballet of music only they could hear. A whisper of warm breath ran over his cheek and he'd opened his eyes. A fox looked down on him, and then laughed in high yipping barks before licking the cheek that breath had touched only instants before.  
  
"Hello," he'd said wonderingly. Well, he had been only thirteen. And what did he know about foxes? They were red and sometimes they stole a duck from out of the ponds. The fox had laughed harder and then something really odd had happened. The fox had become a girl, an extremely naked girl. She looked to be about sixteen, only a few years older then him. But as he'd found out, she was considerably a bit older then that.  
  
"Hello yourself, black haired boy, yarp!" Silvery laughter spilled forth from her smiling mouth. He sat up, hands on the ground and stared at her. "Cat got your tongue? If it has it must be hunted, yarp, yarp!" She lay on her side regarding him thoughtfully, red hair all tangled through with flowers. "You're all tense. Why?"  
  
He'd blinked. There was a naked girl lying on the grass with him, a very pretty girl with red hair and black on red eyes and red lips and she was red all over and so very, very pretty. He blushed. Her nose twitched and she'd leant up and kissed him. "Who . . .who are you?"  
  
"Call me Vulpe, yarp! Such a sweet boy, you taste like sugar and light. But you'll see darkness and you'll eat death. Poor child."  
  
"I'm not that much younger then you are," he'd protested.  
  
"So, what's your name then?"  
  
"Severus Snape."  
  
"Oh, a Snape is it? Wizards and magic so confounded. They don't understand, you know." A flicker of seriousness had passed over her face. "You need to be the magic, let it burn through you. You don't understand, none of you do."  
  
"So, what are you then?"  
  
"I'm a fox, darling midnight child, a fox." And she'd kissed him again. "You taste so sweet. But you're a snake. You go to the school, right?"  
  
"I attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, yes." His voice became a bit huskier, and then it had cracked on the last word, like it had had an annoying habit of doing. She had not laughed, and he'd adored her for it. And then it had all come crashing down later. . .  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
He'd been at one of the Deatheater meetings; the afternoon encounter in the sunshine among the wildflowers carefully pushed to the back of his mind. She'd have been disappointed in him, the foxgirl. But hadn't she seen it? She'd talked of him eating death and falling into darkness and before scampering away into the hedgerow she'd wept honey scented tears over his face. That experience had always been a cherished memory of his. For all the Marauders could say, a halfwild spirit had never kissed them on a Sunday afternoon in the sun. Never had her cry tears for them and whisper half-insane nonsense into their ears as they talked about life, magic and the beauty of the sun. it was one thing they had never had, when they seemed to have it all otherwise. They had each other but they would never experience that soul tingling enchantment that she had bestowed on him. Him. Severus Snape. Brooding, sullen, bitter, greasy haired, ugly Severus Snape with his huge nose, hard eyes and thin lips.  
  
Lucius had shown up, his silver grey eyes gleaming through the holes in his mask. "We've got a treat tonight, Snape."  
  
"Really, Malfoy? What type of treat would you be pertaining to?"  
  
"MacNair managed to find it and catch it. As to what it is, you'll have to wait and see." Severus had raised an eyebrow, bored already. And then she had been pulled into the circle of firelight, screaming curses and fighting with everything in her. He was glad for the mask then as it hid his shock and horror at seeing the one clean and good memory he had hauled into the darkness he now inhabited.  
  
"Let me go! I will kill you all! I will rip out your throats!" She had sprawled for a moment on the ground, and then she had rolled rapidly, sprang to her feet and somersaulted over the flames. To land in front of him. Her nose had twitched and her eyes filled with those honey scented tears. "Beloved darkness, by light forgot." Her hand touched his cheek, and hating himself, he'd grabbed it cruelly. She had given him a look of understanding and forgiveness as he pushed her into Lucius's arms.  
  
"So. . . our Lord caught himself a foxspirit. Impressive. If He can keep her, I'll be even more impressed." Snape lifted Vulpe's chin in a harsh grip. She'd twisted her head and sunk her teeth into the fleshy part of his hand. They'd held each other's gaze as blood ran down his hand and from her mouth. And then Lucius had broken the tableau by pinching her ass and running a hand along the smooth curve of her thigh. A hiss of pure loathing came from her lips around his hand and she'd let go to bite Lucius. He'd taken part in what followed, of course. He had his own skin to think of. And even when she was a broken heap on the ground, she'd raised her head and spat venomous curses at Voldemort. Even then. That had been one of the triggers to leave. Vulpe. Beautiful wild Vulpe, who should never have been caged.  
  
He'd never told Dumbledore that. But then again, no one had ever known about the wild sun afternoon either. Vulpe had stayed with Voldemort for over twenty years. And she'd managed to learn more curses then she had known before. She'd clawed out a Deatheater's eye and kicked Voldemort in the balls. Bit them all more times then he could count, and the ring gag was the only way you could get a blowjob, or even a kiss, from her. And now, apparently, she'd eaten Voldemort's pet snake. You had to hand it to her; she knew how to make a point.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
He looked up as a stream of students entered the room. Vulpe purred slightly under his carressing hand, then suddenly she stepped down and shifted upwards. An arch of her back pointed her chest upwards and he could hear all the adolescent males behind him drop their books. He sighed. She turned and gave him a devilish smile. "Wildflowers."  
  
"Quite, Vulpe." Because they couldn't see him, he could smile. He stood up. "And please do get some clothes on."  
  
"Rubs my fur the wrong way, you know that." She was pouting. He just raised an eyebrow.  
  
"That is irrelevant, fox. While you are a part of this establishment and bipedal, you will wear clothes."  
  
"Bastard."  
  
"You'd have to ask my parents about the truth of that."  
  
"Goddamn motherfucking asskissing toadying bastard."  
  
"You have gained an impressive vocabulary, Vulpe." He could hear the chorus of gasps from here. He restrained the urge to roll his eyes. "If you're quitre finished with the dramatics. . ."  
  
"Haven't even started, handsome." She blew him a kiss, then crossed her arms. "You can just kiss my arse. I am not wearing clothes. I'm so sick of humanity." Her tail curled about her feet, the tip twitching lazily.  
  
"Oh, aren't you?" Her eyes widened slightly. She shifted her feet, and then jumped onto one of the chair's back, leaping from that in an agile twist that landed her beyond the students and she flashed out the entrance. Severus sighed, and counted to ten. Then he went after her. 


	3. Storytelling

For my very first reviewer on this story. Vampire-Gothic-Lady-Aparma, here's your chappie. And a cookie. Do you want a catnip stuffed mouse? Or a shiny thing? Oooohhh. Shhhiiiiinnnnnyyyy. plays with shiny thing Ahem. pokes shiny thing again Eeeeee! Shiny! pokes giggles I like shiny things. They're so. . .shiny! Eeee! watches it roll around  
  
Mrrooowwwrrrr. . .*purrs* I like reviews. They make me get the warm fuzzies.  
  
DitzCat.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Vulpe walked through the halls of Hogwarts, quick glances taking in her surroundings while she followed her nose. Draco had gone this way. She could smell the hints of her own blood and pain on the air, and then over that were all the hundreds of students scents. Sweet and sunshiney and coated all through with those wholesome teenage lust thoughts. Well, the older lot of them anyway. She stepped through a door to the outside and sighed happily as she left the walls of stone behind. Soon, a red fox made its way down to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, picking its way with neat little feet.  
  
Draco watched with his customary sneer on his face, as Hagrid managed not to fumble his way through a lesson. When he felt the cold nose touch the skin of his ankle, he didn't start. Vulpe would always manage to find him. It was a type of game for the two of them, when she could manage to slip her bonds. Just to find him, touch his ankle with her nose and then fade away into the stone walls of Malfoy Manor. As long as she could. The screams of rage and agony when she was caught always echoed off the walls like water falling from the fountains in the gardens. . .he shivered slightly.  
  
Vulpe slipped out from beneath his robes, not having noticed by anyone there. Gryffindors and Slytherins were both as obtuse as each other, really. She ran up the fence railing and perched there, black eyes gleaming as she started swearing at the Nightshade Cats Hagrid had managed to restrain for his class. The gleaming, translucent feline specters eyed her warily, and then one of them spat something back in its liquid voice. Vulpe yipped laughter and growled something derogatory about its mother. The Cat flexed its midnight shaded paws, softly glowing shards of lights appearing from its barely there pads of fur and muscle.  
  
"Oi, you get aw' from there!" Hagrid rumbled. Vulpe carefully skipped backwards, and then in a somersault she shifted to balance on the top rail, tail holding her balance.  
  
"Watch it, halfling, yarp, yarp!" She looked down at the Cat. "And I meant it about your mother. Cats. Blech. Only a cut above dogs." A grin. The Cat yowled a challenge. "Oh, you think you can take me, cat? Watch me laugh, yarp. Laughing right here in your snooty bewhiskered face, kitty. Would you like some cream in a pink bowl, pussy?" She flipped so she was on her hands as she got down and stared in the infuriated Cat's face, body almost perfectly vertical. Draco snickered, and she turned her head slightly. "Wanna start taking bets, dragon? Betcha I can beat the evermotherloving shit out of it, yarp, yarp." She flipped the Cat off and it lunged for her fingers. She giggled.  
  
"Vulpe, please. Try to restrain yourself."  
  
"But it's a cat. Lithismaolilitosian!" The Cat snarled and leapt for her face as she insulted it. She patted its head, caressing its ears before swinging back up with a laugh. "Should we elucidate, oh perfect lover of my heart and soul?"  
  
"Why ever not, most bewitching vixen of the wildfire magic?" The corner of Draco's mouth twitched upwards.  
  
"Ok, listen up all you students and sweet darling children. This is how it goes. Once there was life, and the Folk came to partake of it. Some frolicked with magic and it became a part of who they were. My mother was one of those. A fox touched and blazing with the chaotic side of the night and the wildness running sweet as fire through her mind." Vulpe gestured at Draco, even though some of them seemed to have a clue. "Take it, oh dragon mine."  
  
"And then the darkness came and the fires were quenched. There was screaming, wailing and blood as the magic was taken from its original owners and imprisoned in books, wands and spells. Yet the wildfire continued to run where the twoleggers could not catch it. Your turn." He nodded at her. She took it up again.  
  
"And then some of them learnt the trick of taking on a twolegger shape so they could walk around easier. Of course, being a twolegger didn't always mean safety. Sometimes it meant worse. And time passed and the wildones didn't die out, though every magic family could tell you otherwise. We just became more adept at hiding, showing ourselves but rarely to those we thought we could trust." She beamed for a moment, thinking of Severus. "We're more fickle then unicorns, more wild then Hippogruffs, more chancy then a Dragon on its nest. And so we lived."  
  
"And then you went and got caught."  
  
"And then I got caught." She nodded slowly. "Ice, do we continue? Or do we end?"  
  
"I think we end, Fire." She jumped into his arms, shifting halfway there so she was a fox when she hit his chest. He caught her easily and whispered endearments to her as he rubbed her ears. The class was in an uproar around them. She wiggled and he let her down. She shifted back into her slightly more human form.  
  
"So, questions, class?" She leaned against Draco, one eyebrow delicately raised. "Whatever should we start with? How long one Wizard can hold the Crucio curse on a foxspirit before he or she passes out? I don't think you saw it that time, Draco my darling child. Pettigrew passed out once." He chuckled. "I swear to god, I am going to snap that little rat's back one day." She clicked her teeth together. "Bet he'll even taste good after the Reynard damned snake." Her head stiffened and she looked at the darkness of the Forest. "Don't wait up, darling boy." She walked steadily into the Forest and disappeared into the secluded shadows, there for a moment and then fading into the darkening shades.  
  
"She can' go in there!" Seamus said horrified. Draco arched an elegant eyebrow at him.  
  
"Considering she was born there, I don't think there will be a problem." A gleam of her brush flickered for a moment, then was swallowed up by the darkening shadows of the brooding trees.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
The trees of the Forbidden Forest sighed as she walked the ways beneath them, welcoming a wounded spirit home. Delicate faded wildflowers nodded sleepily beneath their outstretched branches, shaded from sunlight but still carpeting the ground. Vulpe had not realized to this moment how much she had missed it. The whispers of the trees as they discussed what was happening around them. The slow, immense thoughts of the oaks. The silvery brightness of the ashes and beeches. The slow rhythm of autumn, winter, spring, summer. Oh, how she'd missed it in that part of her soul that was tied to the earth. She was surprised sometimes that she hadn't died from grief. Cut off and lonely. The pain was nothing, for wild animals know pain always passes. It was the disconnection from the earth that had caused her the most agony. . .  
  
She passed under the trees, then paused and somersaulted into the branches of the tree above her. Soon, the muffled sounds she had heard grew louder and a herd of centaurs passed under her. Vulpe grinned and leapt from the one branch to another, ahead of them. She tucked her legs around the branch and dropped down in front of the leading stallion. "Booger booger!" She was gone before the flight of arrows could hit. "Gee, centaurs. Still no sense of humour. Hmmph." Another volley. She was once more not there. "You really think you'd get a grip, yarp! Lighten up!" The twang of bowstrings greeted her. "You lot of dozy mules! Eeek!" Vulpe scrambled higher, throwing insults behind her as she climbed. "Carthorses! Mounts of men!"  
  
"VULPE! Stop thy nonsense and cease thy noise. Where hast thou been, spirit beloved of fire?" A hoarse voice called out to her. Ah, she knew that voice. As no more arrows flew upwards to seek her out, she dropped gracefully to the ground. "Where have you been, fox?" The centaur stallion who addressed her had been white once, his hide fading into grey, grizzled beard covering his face, silvery strands of mane tied back into a ponytail. He stamped a cracked hoof restlessly as the other members of the herd muttered. "The stars spoke of you. . ."  
  
"I hope it was something nice, Druce," Vulpe said lightly as she walked towards him. They exchanged breaths, reacquainting themselves in the manner of horses.  
  
"Pain, flamechild, pain. All they told was pain. Something is stirring and a darkness is coming." He took her slight black gloved hands into his large rough ones. "A dark and terrible storm that even now starts to cloud our foretelling. They do not believe me, many of these young colts and fillies. But we know. . ."  
  
"The flames speak to me of the same. There is a vessel to be found in the school."  
  
"Ah, the school. It is a wise idea, the school."  
  
"I miss Salazar and Godric," Vulpe told him tearfully. "I wish, I wish-"  
  
"Wishing accomplishes naught, red one. Naught at all." He smiled calmly at her then enfolded her in a hug. She clung to him for a moment, breathing in his warm and honest scent, quickened with the gleam of his foretelling and inherent magic. They were cousins, of a sort, but the centaurs had forgotten how to be both two legger and beast or the mix between long ago. He smelled of herbs and wise age. She knew she smelt sharp and slightly like blood, because of her nature but Druce was an old, old friend. He would not hold it against her. These others did. She could feel it, the stares, the hate. Just because she was not the same as they, that she still had the wildfire burning bright within her soul! She stepped back from Druce slowly. "Why wast thou gone so long from the Forest?"  
  
"I was trapped."  
  
"Who would do such a thing?" He asked in outrage.  
  
"Voldemort. He will be dealt with, the wizards have a prophecy. But there are more important things afoot. I have need to find the people and animals mentioned in my dreams. I do not know them yet, but I will. Yarp, I will."  
  
"I do not doubt it. I will see thee again sometime within these hallowed lands." She moved out of the way and the centaur herd galloped off to their interrupted grazing. She gazed after them for a moment, then decided it was time to move out of the woods. It had changed since she had been in it last. The spiders were everywhere. There had been only the one once, before she'd left. But now she could see the strands of their webs into everything. She did not want to be eaten so she left the Forest to its whispers. 


	4. Wolves

Thanks to Hermoine-2113 for pointing out that mistake. It's fixed now. And there are no words to describe my story? *sighs happily* I feel so loved. I think if you read my other stories, you can see the definite progression from something like 'Brianna' or 'What the?!'. I've grown up, and my stories have as well. But there's just something about this story that demands higher quality writing from me. *rereads the review* I just, wow. That is probably the nicest review I have ever gotten. *beams*  
  
DitzCat  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Vulpe shot out of the forest, screaming insults at the black shadow that chased her. An immense black wolf flowed after the red spark, teeth gleaming in an outraged snarl. Flicker of form and Vulpe scrambled to the top of Hagrid's hut. Fang inside howled and Hagrid opened the door. The wolf also shifted upwards into a tall lean man with a mane of black hair spilling down his back, face grim and uncompromising. Vulpe kicked her legs and snarled back as he rumbled a warning up at her.  
  
"Leave me be, Malgaunt, yarp!"  
  
"Ye tempt me o'ermuch. Come down here so I can spank your behind, impudent whelp," the one she had named Malgaunt growled and his own plumed black tail swung restlessly. She threw her head back and trilled a laugh. He backed off slightly so he could see her better, furred and clawed feet stepping noiselessly over the litter. "Give me back my prey."  
  
"Can't, eaten it already."  
  
"It is hard to hunt of late. Ye owe me, vixen."  
  
"Awww, is the poor ickle wolfie hungry? Poor wolfie, for he shall have no rabbit tonight."  
  
"No, I shan't, because ye bloody well nicked it from my jaws!" He said in a tone of outraged dignity. She snickered. He swayed backwards and forwards on his feet, trying to decide if it was worth leaping for her throat from down here.  
  
"Wolf at the door, gameskeeper do your duuuu-uuuty!" Vulpe caroled in an off-key melody. Hagrid watched the pair in dumb amazement, crossbow held loosely in one huge hand. Malgaunt spared him a glance, then dismissed him. "A wolf at the door in winter betides snow and storms and hunger!"  
  
"A fox in summer means the farmer better watch his chickens," Malgaunt hissed up at the grinning fox. "At least I am *feared*, oh thief."  
  
"Who wants to be feared? I just want to be fed. Sevvy!" She squealed with delight as Severus came down the path, grimacing slightly at both the nickname and the sunlight. Malgaunt eyed him with a bit more respect then he had the half-giant. He had the look of a wizard who knew how to use his wand. Malgaunt had great respect for wizards and their trapped captive magic. He raised his own hand and shimmering black fire crawled into it. Vulpe looked at it with trepidation as it flowed over Malgaunt's hand until it appeared to be like a gauntlet made of a dark and fey metal. "Sorry, alright?"  
  
"Sorry does not get me fed, vixen." He lifted his hand and pointed it at Vulpe. "Come down here before I am forced to bring you down. Do not look to these two to prevent me." The fire gleamed sullenly in the fading daylight as the wolf looked upwards at the trapped fox. She summoned her own fire bright magic, before leaping from the roof to the ground over Malgaunt's head and hitting the earth with a skitter of black paws. Malgaunt wheeled, black fire flickering out of existence with a thought and catapulting after her. They ran across the lawns in front of the lake, bright red sparks hitting the ground in front of Malgaunt every so often. The wolf dodged them and kept going. He lifted his head and howled eerily. An answering howl rose from the Forbidden Forest as his mate sang back to him. He smiled and bounded on after the fleeing fox.  
  
Vulpe ran on, heart in her throat. Her magic was not aiding her for the wolf had his own magic and also, he was not as tired as she. He had not the healing to go through that she did. She cut back and doubled her trail, using all those tricks foxes know to divert their hunters, but the grinning wolf flowed ever onwards. She dodged and fled towards the school. As the wolf and the fox entered the school, students started to scream and run out of the way as the red fox ran away from the snarling wolf. Brush streaming out behind her and feet striking the ground rapidly, Vulpe leapt for a place of safety. Scrabbling with her back legs, Vulpe moved upwards into the recess she had found. Malgaunt sat at the base of the alcove and snarled in dissatisfaction. She snickered and shifted back to her inbetween form.  
  
"Yarp, yarp! Got ya fooled and covered, wolf!"  
  
Malgaunt also shifted upwards. Vulpe drew in her legs. "Ye stole from me!"  
  
"It's what foxes do best, wolf!"  
  
"Filthy little scavenger!"  
  
"Aw, that's not nice." Vulpe pretended to sulk. Malgaunt tensed his legs and leapt upwards. His hands scraped just below where she was sitting and then he fell back, growling with impotent rage. Vulpe laughed. "Lalalala! Wolfie got no rabbits cos the fox stole it away!"  
  
"You conniving little HUMAN!"  
  
Vulpe frowned. "No need to go *that* far, Malgaunt." The wolf snarled in reply and surged upwards again.  
  
"I am going to rip your throat out! Ye do not understand how hard th' Hunt has been of late! My mate needs to be fed. The spiders are taking over the Forest. My pups have had to leave the hunting grounds. It can barely support us twain." Malgaunt leaned against the wall, his golden feral eyes showing his despair. He raised his head and howled mournfully, black light crackling over his skin. Vulpe began to feel shamed because of what she had done. If she had known it was as bad as all that. . . "And a Darkness is coming, singing of blood and fire. Something Dark and terrible as the night sky and just as filled with horror." Vulpe's heart stopped beating for a moment. If the wolves could sense it. . . oh Reynard.  
  
"I, I have sensed it as well," Vulpe whispered.  
  
"Then ye know what we are to do?" Malgaunt asked almost plaintively, heavy plumed tail sweeping restlessly about his feet. "I Hunt, I stalk, I kill. Magic is not my strength. Nor is foretelling. But even Nuala has felt it. My beautiful white one. . ." He stared upwards at her, red eyes meeting gold ones. He turned swiftly and snarled at the students. "Get ye hence! This has naught to do with wizards! This is Wild Folk business. Ye have brought ye doom to your own heads. Go deal with your snake, and leave the coming night to us. We know it best."  
  
"For we were born in midnight hours when the sun saw us not," Vulpe said, a fey look falling over her features. "And the light has not shed its warming strength to show what had been hidden." She lifted her pointed face slightly. "You are children of sunlight. Leave this to us of midnight."  
  
"Untamed and terrible, it comes. With bloodlust and a ravening hunger. It will devour all." Malgaunt sighed and sank down onto his haunches, resting his head in his hands. "Fox, tell me this. Can we run from it?"  
  
"No. No. There is no running. And for a fox, that is a hard admission to make." Vulpe closed her eyes briefly, feeling the familiar flame of foretelling settling over. She threw her head back with a halfpained cry and slowly crumpled out of her aerie. Malgaunt reacted quickly and caught her. Nonsense syllables spilled from her lips and her eyelids fluttered as her body jerked in his arms. The wolf cradled her, showing more then a hint of teeth to the humans around him as he warned them soundlessly away.  
  
"Vulpe!" Draco cried out and rushed to Malgaunt's side. The black wolf growled at him. "I'm her friend. What's going on?" Malgaunt eyed him suspiciously then leant forward over Vulpe's body to scent Draco.  
  
"You're hers, alright. Can smell her all over ye." The wolf sneezed in disgust, then Vulpe arched her back and screamed, the high tones ringing through the hall. An answering howl echoed in on its heels as a white wolf padded up through the hallways of the school, golden eyes gleaming. Malgaunt howled back at her, thin lips curling back from sharp teeth. Draco eyed the wolf as it stalked over to Vulpe and Malgaunt before between one step and the next it became a woman with long white hair merging into her downy white fur, yellow wolfish eyes and a heavy plumed tail. Her face and hands held more then a hint of her animal nature. "Nuala."  
  
"Malgaunt my black hearted love." Nuala sat easily down on her haunches next to the quickly panting fox and her mate. She looked at Draco coolly. "What, a wizard my love?" She put a hand on Vulpe's face and sighing, closed her golden eyes. "Calm little flame. This will pass as all does."  
  
"It is coming!" Vulpe shot upright and wailed in a high scream. Any students who had not already left did so now. Draco watched grimly, and Malgaunt spared him a glance of amber-eyed respect. The fox's voice spiraled upwards in a keening yowl, harmonics chasing each other in harsh ear shattering tones. The wolves flinched, then raised their own voices in eerie song. Somehow, the two wolves complemented the fox's harsh screaming so a new and more true song emerged. Draco spared a glance for the teachers as red, black and white fire twined together in a three strong twist of gleaming magic. Snape seemed to be taking it in his stride, Flitwick looked astounded, McGonagall's face looked as it always did, Dumbledore was watching calmly as the three fires chased over Draco's form, Hooch's golden eyes always looked as if they belonged on a hawk anyway so maybe this wasn't so new to her, Binns hadn't left his classroom, and neither had Pomfrey or Sprout. Filch had his cat as his feet, the cat's eyes gleaming in the rippled light of the twined fires. "Blood, oh Reynard, so much blood!"  
  
"Show us, little flame, tell us, lead us," Nuala whispered. "It is always the fox's place to tell what comes next. The wolves to HUNT!"  
  
"Ah, my love, we HUNT!" They howled together as the fox in their arms subsided into shuddering breaths and whining pants. Malgaunt tilted his head to stare at Hooch. "Hawk. . . do you fly here? Do we hunt? You the sky and we the grounds?"  
  
"Perhaps, wolf. Or perhaps I leave you to your Pack, and you leave me to my aerie," Hooch replied crisply.  
  
Malgaunt barked a laugh. "Ah, I remember you know. I know your lineage. How's the old hawk?"  
  
"He's fine." Hooch's eyes shuttered briefly. "Why have you come out of the Forest, wolf?"  
  
"The fox stole from me." He cocked his head. "But I think I won't be leaving just yet."  
  
"Whyfor we stay, my love?" Nuala inquired, stretching lazily. "The fox can find us if she needs us. And the dragon can look after her just fine."  
  
"Aye, I suppose. . ." Malgaunt nuzzled her neck briefly. "We need to hunt, my mate."  
  
"That is true." Nuala stood. "Give the fox to him, and let us leave. The captive magic here plucks at my senses. Makes me want to bite and rend and free it. . ." She bared her teeth. "It wants to scream."  
  
"And screams resounding there shall be." Malgaunt gave the unconscious Vulpe into Draco's arms. "Guard her well, for she knows what is to come. In half glimpses and confusion to be sure, but it's more then anyone else is seeing these days. Even the centaurs." The two wolves shifted and fled the stone halls, singing to each other of hunt and pain and blood. . . 


	5. Stormcrow

After a few days, mostly everything to do with Vulpe settled down. Despite Snape's most pessimistic opinions, no Deatheaters appeared at the school to fetch the Dark Lord's Pet home. Vulpe sniffed irritably and told Snape that of course he wouldn't come fetch her. Not here. Not where she was strong. No, he'd wait until she went out into the world again, lost herself on the road and in the wind flickering through the grasses and the trees like an erstwhile lover. Laughing softly to itself as it ruffled through her fur. . .she didn't need to go yet, but she would. She had. . .people was probably the politest term, to find.  
  
For some reason, mostly people forgot that the small vixen skulking along at Draco's heels was anything but a familiar. An uncommon sort, owls, cats, rats and toads being more preferred among wizarding circles, but nevertheless. A familiar. An animal that aided a wizard's doings and spells. Useful. Helpful. Submissive.  
  
Draco laughed at the thought of Vulpe doing anything other then that she wished it to be so. Without a lot of blood on both sides. His expression darkened as he remembered how true that was. And even then, it was a grudging acceptance of what was happening. Take your eyes and wand off her for one moment. . .and you would probably be missing a body part.  
  
In one of McGonnagall's Transfiguration classes, Vulpe watched with dark midnight frozen eyes as the experienced witch taught. The fox resisted the urge to spit. She hated cats. Made her fur rise in all the wrong ways with their purr and mew and look at me, worship me foolishness. Why did a creature of night need humans, anyway? Cats had never got over Egypt, that was their problem. Owls had a little more sense. And no one worshipped foxes. They cursed them, baited them, hunted them and the foxes got just that little bit quicker and smarter. There would always be foxes.  
  
She rolled over onto her side, brush lying lazily against the floor. Draco ran his foot along her back, scratching an itch and she sighed. Yes, this was peace. But she had never been a creature of peace. She was the wildfire, burning and blazing against the backdrop of a silent starry sky. Prophecy and foresight gleaming in the embers and something darker lurking behind feral eyes with a gleam and snap of teeth in sarcastic laughter. Maybe that's why she got on so well with Sev. She was dark inside too, in an ironic way that most people wouldn't understand. Not evil. Just. . .dark. Black. Midnight darkling childe. Something that daylight couldn't understand.  
  
Her ears pricked and she got to her feet, before passing out the door. Draco spared her a worried glance as she snapped her canine teeth at Ron and Harry before gilding away like smoke. A flick of her tail curving around the door, and she was gone. McGonagall coughed to draw the attention back to her lesson. Harry shot a glare at Draco, the Slytherin arched an eyebrow.  
  
"What? You think I have any control over the fox? Please."  
  
"Mr Malfoy, if you would cease with idle chitchat, and return your attention to where it belongs?"  
  
"Of course, Professor." Draco's face was blank.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Vulpe settled on the grassy slope and watched the skies. Something was going to happen. Something big. Something that would lead to other things and perhaps into much blood. . .hopefully, this time not hers. She had had enough of her blood being spilt onto the thirsty earth. Mother Earth was always thirsty. And she adored blood. Humans and their wars. . .they'd conditioned her to it until the earth wept when she didn't receive it. Throwing tantrums like an angry child, and screaming for the blood she was denied. Earthquakes and tsunamis, cyclones and mudslides. . .just so the earth could drink her fill of life.  
  
Blackness swirled across the blue sunny skies. Well, sunny for England in winter anyway. Vulpe shivered slightly as the wind picked up, dropping to the ground, pointed ears laid flat against her skull. An answering howl drifted from the forest, matched by the eerie keening of the wind. Leaves swirled in front of her, rising higher and higher into the sky, sucked into the storm as it towered above the grounds of Hogwarts. The Ravenclaw Quidditch team, which had been practicing on the Quidditch pitch yelled in alarm and zoomed off the field, storm winds playfully plucking at their broomsticks and robes. The Snitch fluttered for a moment, then was swallowed into the wind. The Bludgers hit the ground hard, tossed by the storm in a negligent manner. The Quaffle was sent through one of the stands, cloth ripping and peeling back as the wind seized on the fluttering material with gleeful fingers, cackling madly to itself as it tore the material loose from the wood.  
  
Vulpe shuddered as the storm howled, working itself up and rushing at the somber steadfastness of the castle. It screamed, shaking and angry as it failed to have any effect on the stone. Glass rattled in the windowpanes as the storm tried its hardest to effect anything to do with this obstacle to its fun. Eventually, it gave up and the black clouds went rolling away like a herd of cattle to stampede across the forest. The trees presented much more sport, shaking and bowing as the winds snatched at them in destructive play.  
  
The fox sat up again and surveyed the slope, then her form changed.  
  
"And I'm to suppose you found this terribly funny, yarp?" she said sternly, tail flicking against the torn up grass.  
  
"Well. . .yes, chicken thief, I did."  
  
"Calling names is no way to start, yarp yarp."  
  
"And the wolves are going to be on my tail, aren't they? Oh, la!"  
  
"La di dah and quite the fancy nancy in this age, aint'cha?"  
  
A silvery ripple of laughter greeted Vulpe's disgruntled tone.  
  
"Li di dah indeed, and fancy free. But the winds called, and I have come. The calling storms showed me a path in the darkness and I make my way upon it. For nothing else would I come back to this place of captive magics and imprisoned spells where my love was turned to spite. You know that, I think."  
  
Vulpe regarded the slim boy who sat at her black furred feet with considerable aplomb. The sun shone off his black hair as his bright eyes regarded her with fascination. A small breeze ruffled his hair into feathers as he studied her, then looked at his hand, wiggling his fingers as if amazed they even worked.  
  
"So, how are you these days, Jack?"  
  
"Oh, I'm bright as a button, thanks, Foxie. So, what's ado with you?"  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
The two strolled into the halls together, Vulpe's brush sweeping the floor at regular intervals. Jack looked up and whistled softly, the beautiful piping echoing off the vaulted roof.  
  
"La, Foxie! You've set yourself up and no mistaking this for steel and silver."  
  
"Do you want to. . ."  
  
"Aye."  
  
He looked grim for a moment, sharp face settling itself into other then pixish merriment and cunning avarice. He was a thief by nature, and he looked it, but such a charming thief! He could convince the most sober person into giving him the keys to the family silver and then showing him the jewels of the lady of the house. Only after he'd left would they come to their senses and his hoarse laughter would follow their frenzied attempts to retrieve their belongings as a black feathered form floated higher on the wind.  
  
"The students are in classes, mostly," Vulpe said. "You know, book learning. Wand waving. Silly things."  
  
"Imprisoning, captivating, wrong, all wrong!" Jack shouted, hand flying to his head to pull at his hair. "You know it, the wolves know it, we all know it! All of us from midnight born. And we're helpless now to stop it, turn the tide back. Might as well fetch feathers scattered on the wind. We might have, once, but no. We helped these wizards! I helped these wizards! Fool of a rook! Silly little featherbrain!"  
  
"Ah, shh, now Jack. Calm down," Vulpe soothed.  
  
Jack croaked a laugh, and looked at her. "You're staying for someone, a wizard."  
  
"Maybe, maybe. Yarp."  
  
"You'll only be betrayed. As I was. Curse you, Ravenclaw! You took my name from me!" Jack turned and kicked the wall, then held his foot and cursed.  
  
"Next time, try that when you're wearing boots," Vulpe advised.  
  
"Oh, thanks so much, Foxie. Anyway. Where's the Headmaster? I should show some respect. Before I go stark staring mad and make the winds tear this place down."  
  
"Times have changed, Jack. We can only go work with what we have."  
  
Jack suddenly looked very old, rather then his usual fifteen or possibly sixteen years. "Aye, times have changed. They've changed indeed."  
  
"Look, the ickle fox has found a friend!" Peeves snickered, swooping down towards them. Jack turned, glared at the poltergeist, muttered something under his breath, and then stomped off. Vulpe followed him, snickering slightly as Peeves made to follow them. Only to find he couldn't. The poltergeist's outraged bellows followed them down the corridor.  
  
"Jack, so li di dah and all spruced up to the nines and clappers, where did you learn that?"  
  
Jack clucked slightly and fingered the lace at his throat. Unlike Vulpe, he was wearing clothes. Gleaming elegant black which somehow also had highlights of a deep blue, like the colours in a storm cloud. Whispers of a deepening green, purples. Almost like a somber bruise. He was wearing wizarding robes, but in an old, old style. White ruffled lace hung beneath his throat and around his wrists. His hair was tied back in a slightly ruffled que in a black silk ribbon, feathery wisps of half formed curls hanging around his thin face.  
  
"Here and there, Foxie, here and there. Bit o' this, bit o' that, you know how it is." He seemed vaguely uncomfortable now, looking up and down the presently empty corridors as the two walked on. "I don't like buildings, Foxie."  
  
"I know, Jack," Vulpe said. She chuckled. "Neither do I, really."  
  
"So why are you ehre?"  
  
"The same reasons you are. The wind showed you. The fire showed me."  
  
"Everything's going to go topsyturvey, Foxie. Ashes, ashes, we all fall down. Except for the one with the crown. Heart unbroken, words not spoken, a flame against the night as wings are spread for the first time. . ." he sing songed in a quiet way. Vulpe pricked her ears and listened harder. "To fly, to soar, what's more. Fire bright, star aright, a way to be turned, a way to be spurned. Something creeping out from the abyss and the wizards wonder what's amiss. Ah."  
  
"Hmm. . ." A bell rang and the students started to pour out of the classrooms. Jack started, arms rising and Vulpe put a hand on his arm. "Just students, Jack. Cubs. Fledges."  
  
"A weasel when young is just as dangerous as the weasel when grown," Jack said in a troubled voice while he stared at the students. They stared back.  
  
"Oh, and speaking of weasels. . ." Vulpe said, looking at Ron.  
  
"Weasel? Where?!"  
  
"Metaphorically speaking, Jack me lad," Vulpe chuckled when Jack looked fair to fly away in fright.  
  
"Next you'll be saying there's a cat, or a hawk."  
  
"Well. . ."  
  
"Fair tis to be brought here, what's Jack to do? What is the jack of all trades and master of none save thieving and singing to do, oh to do? Cats! Weasels! Hawks! And what's a Jackdaw to do, hey? What's poor Jack to do?"  
  
"Same as me. I don't like them none either."  
  
"No snakes?"  
  
"Snakes a plenty," Vulpe said, then watched in satisfaction as Jack's face whitened more. "Oh, come on, Jack."  
  
"I should just let the storm take me and be done with it! It would be a lot less dangerous. . ."  
  
Bemoaning his fortune and his foretelling, Jack entered into Hogwarts, much less obtrusively then the fox or the wolves. 


	6. Returning

Vulpe perched on a chair in the Slytherin common rooms, a few weeks after Jack had enterd into Hogwarts. She eyed Blaise Zabini who was sitting across from her and smiling slightly. Pushy little bitch doll of a girl. Crystal blue eyes met red as she laid her cards across the table.  
  
"Full house."  
  
The fox snorted and laid down her cards. "Fold. Dammit. You're good at this, usually I can beat anyone."  
  
Blaise smiled as she picked up the playing cards and shuffled, tapping the worn edges of the handpainted cards together into something resembling order. The backs were painted with a green snake against a black background, and the royal cards of each suite displayed creatures not unlike Vulpe herself. The Diamond suite had foxes for its royalty. "So, Wyvern never cautioned you against playing cards with me?"  
  
"Draco warns me about a lot of things. That doesn't mean I listen to him," Vulpe sniffed as she picked up her new cards. "Don't play with Jack."  
  
"And whyever ever not, dearest Foxie love?" Blaise said as she studied her hand.  
  
"He's a thief and a scoundrel and a rake and a bad bad man. Bird. Hmmph." Vulpe wrinkled her nose thoughtfully as she looked at her hand. "You're cheating, aren't you?"  
  
"How can you even ask?" Blaise pouted, then smiled. "Well, yes. Of course I am. I'm a Slytherin."  
  
"Funny, funny, very funny." Vulpe frowned at Blaise, then slid two cards face down across the table. "Two." Blaise dealt Vulpe two more cards, and gave herself three. They both looked at their cards, then at each other. Vulpe smiled. "I raise."  
  
"Match and raise," Blaise said. They both looked at each other as they slid the stakes into the center of the table.  
  
"Raise."  
  
Blaise looked at Vulpe consideringly. "Match. Show?"  
  
"Show," Vulpe agreed. "Pair of Queens, Pair of Jacks."  
  
"Three twos."  
  
"Reynard take your black little heart," Vulpe said admiringly. "That's it for me, I'm out." She watched Blaise pack up the cards. "You know what? Let's go torment the lightning boy."  
  
"Oh, I'm over that. He'll win or not. Probably win, he's got the luck of a fox," Blaise said, and then looked up. "No offence."  
  
"None taken, we're very lucky."  
  
"Anyway. I have a detention tonight."  
  
"With who?"  
  
"Flitwick. I, ah, misused a charm."  
  
"What?" Vulpe's eyes sparked with mischief.  
  
"A. . .lust charm would be the best name for it." Blaise coughed delicately. "I missed who I was aiming for, and hit the precious Boy-Who- Lived. And why that's such a special title, I'll never understand. After all, we all live. Or we die. Not exactly Alchemy."  
  
"No, not really," Vulpe said thoughtfully. She got to her feet, tail flipping around her ankles. "I'm going to roam a bit."  
  
There was flame in her eyes as she left. Blaise just nodded thoughtfully and laid out her cards for a game of Solitaire. The first card she turned over was the Queen of Diamonds, followed by the King of Spades, a black dog. She hmm'd in concern, then decided to dismiss it as a coincidence and kept playing. Her extremely minor powers of foretelling couldn't be in operation. Could they?  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Vulpe walked out of the school. Her fur prickled. Something was not right. A jackdaw spiraled down out of the sky and transformed. Jack shook out his hair and flicked his cuffs out, fixing the lace.  
  
"I saw something in the wind."  
  
"And I felt something pass in the earth."  
  
They looked at each other, then out at the lake.  
  
The earth shuddered and cracked. Jack leapt into the air, feathers sprouting and then he was whirled around by an errant wind. His frightened cry was swallowed by the rushing of the storm that was growing as Vulpe was thrown backwards. The earth beneath her feet shuddered and jolted like a frightened horse unused to a rider on it and protesting violently with bucks and loud whickering.  
  
Screams rose from the castle and the sound of breaking glass. A roar. Draco held onto his desk as the floor beneath him rolled and rippled. He caught Snape's eye and they both looked grim. Harry caught the look.  
  
"What's going on?" he cried out.  
  
"When it is over, we will know," Snape said seriously.  
  
Harry grabbed Hermoine before she sent her forehead into the corner of a desk and knocked herself out. "With all due respect, sir, that wasn't a very good answer!"  
  
"When I have a better one, I'll be sure to get back to you," Snape snarled. Not even now could he stop being an absolutely insufferable brat. His head was starting to hurt, but his forearm wasn't. So as far as he knew, it was nothing to do with Voldemort. . .but Voldemort wasn't the only evil in the world, no matter how much he influenced the world of wizardy. He was at best, a scratch in the rock no matter how much space he took up in the pages of history. History was an all too human concept. The midnight had no need of it.  
  
Vulpe fixed her claws into the earth as it bucked and shook under her, clinging to it tenaciously. She had no idea where Jack was. He could be anywhere. A jackdaw wasn't very big, and that wind had been very mean and hungry. She flicked her eyes upwards as two immense furred forms dropped to their bellies beside her.  
  
"A fine day, this, fox!" Nuala growled.  
  
"Something from darkness sent, seeks to return," Malgaunt said. "We know of death. From the other side of the veil, something seeks to pass through."  
  
"Something has permission, and something does not," Nuala corrected. "The other something is the problem. The earth cries out. The little snake wizard will know of this happening and the power channeled through the earth today."  
  
"Reynard take it!" Vulpe yapped. "I knew of the first something. I came to meet her. This is not needed now! We have much to do, and not much time in which to do it, the way we count time."  
  
"Which is not at all," Nuala said.  
  
"Not the point, yarp!"  
  
The earth, *howled*, there was no other word for it. The waters of the lake boiled and Vulpe could see the tentacles of the giant squid lashing in terror. She could hear the screams and garbled songs of the Mer. They could be lost, in this. They could deal with storms of a normal nature, but not like this. Not like this.  
  
A gate appeared, a form crawled through it. Followed by another body, holding onto the heel of the first one with a grip like a bulldog on the nose of the bull, knowing that to let go was to die. The storm disappeared. The earth returned to itself. The waters calmed. A blue sky reappeared over head, and a bird broke the amazed stillness with a chirp, before bursting into song.  
  
"Well, let's go see who's come," Vulpe said, getting shakily to her feet. She walked down the slo[e to the two still bodies. Nuala and Malgaunt followed her at a lope. She bent to turn the first one's face to the side. Upswept earlobes surmounted by a slightly furred and pointed tip, tawny browngold hair and almond shaped eyes, closed for now in a tanned face. "Tamsin," Vulpe said, in mixed tones of relief and remembered anger. She turned to look at the other one now, the unwanted one. "And who are you, to cling so hard to the one we wanted's foot like Jacob to Esau's? Let's hope you don't end as ill for her, as Jacob for Esau." She sniffed his black hair delicately. "Dog. But human. Not one of us. A wizard then."  
  
"Not all human," Malgaunt corrected. Vulpe shot him a look.  
  
"Well, if he had been, he couldn't have come back through the gate. But a lot of wizards have a trace of Wildfolk blood racing through their veins. We are the wildfire magic. Devilish hard to get in, but even harder to get rid of. But he's yours, if he's anyone's."  
  
"One supposes we should find clothes for them," Nuala remarked. "Humans take so much care in wearing clothes." Malgaunt snorted and lifted the blackhaired man over his shoulder in an easy carry.  
  
"Let's just get them inside. We can worry about who he is, later."  
  
"But he must be needed, they wouldn't have let him come back otherwise," Vulpe said.  
  
"Needed. . .but for who?" Nuala said in a stern voice. "There are worse things then wizards who seek to pierce all mysteries. IThey/I could have sent him."  
  
Vulpe looked confused and angry as Nuala bent to pick up Tamsin. "I don't know!"  
  
"And until we do know, we shall not say anything of importance to him," Malgaunt growled. The two wolves and the fox set off for the infirmary, two unconscious bodies carried with them. They loped easily past the confused students babbling and milling in the corridors. A glance or two of either wolf's teeth and all were very willing to let them pass, despite the fact they were carrying two nude people. Draco joined Vulpe's side as the company moved quickly through the halls to the hospital wing.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"She was meant to come through. I went to meet her, he just turned up,' Vulpe informed him quietly. "He made all the mess. I don't know what's going to happen now. He's not meant to be here at all. He's meant to still be dead. She had another life. . .has another six, I think."  
  
"Another six?" Draco inquired, lifting an eyebrow.  
  
"Well, yeah, she is a cat," Vulpe said as if he was stupid for even asking. "The thing is, wizards who are straight wizards, can't come back. They become ghosts. Paintings. Something else. They don't come back like this."  
  
"So, he wasn't strictly human," Draco mused.  
  
"Well, neither are the Malfoys so that's nothing to be priggish about," Vulpe snapped.  
  
"SIRUIS!" Harry yelled as he saw the man's face. "What. He. HOW?!"  
  
"Well, we have a name," Vulpe sighed. "You take care of shouting numbskull, we need to figure out some things. He's wolf, back a few centuries."  
  
"He's a Black," Draco said simply, then moved to intercept Harry before a snarling Malgaunt bit his hand off.  
  
"That actually explains a lot," Vulpe said thoughtfully.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Like I was going to let Sirius stay dead. Please. Credit me with some sense of what should happen in a series. And Sirius should not have died. Bad form, JK, bad form! Thanks to my reviewers, Vulpe sends licks and hisses. And Draco wants to know why the rest of you aren't reviewing.  
  
DitzCat. 


	7. Confrontations

When I write, I try to write something I would enjoy. I hope that you're enjoying my fics. Otherwise, it's not nearly as rewarding. I want to know if you are, or if you're not. So hit that little button and review, review, review.

The animal spirits met the next day in the infirmary, since Pomfrey refused to let Tamsin out of her sight. Not that the cat cared particularly much. Warm bed, she got fed. . .what did she have to complain about?

Jack stared at her nervously and Tamsin grinned a long slow grin full of teeth and predatory menace. He made a small noise of nervous fear, a sort of twitter. Vulpe patted his leg comfortingly. He jumped into the air, displacing his chair on to the ground with a clatter. The fox uttered a small sigh.

"Calm down, Jack, she's not going to eat you."

"Not in the you're thinking of, birdie." Tamsin grin got wider. "Sweet little thing, aint'cha? Mmmhmm. . .wanna get my claws deep tight in you and make you moan."

"Can you act like you're not on heat, please?" Vulpe snapped.

Nuala growled at the cat and shifted slightly closer to Malgaunt. He licked her face softly, reassuring her. "I don't want no stinking cat, my whitefurred one. You're all I want and need, my mate my own. . ."

"Touching as this is,' Tamsin purred. "Let's get down to business." She swung her legs out of bed and strutted over to where Pomfrey had put Sirius. He was still in a coma. She straddled him and leant down to sniff his face, moving her hips slightly. "Well, he's cute at least. If only he didn't stink ever so faintly of canine. . .bite me, puppies, bite me hard. Yeah, I thought so. Mrrrrooowwwrrr. . ." Nuala, Malgaunt and Vulpe stared at her in confusion as she stretched upwards then went over backwards, placing her hands flat on the bed. "Hmm, yeah. I might give up this thing about not bedding dogs if he's really as big as he feels." She squirmed slightly.

"As I said before, please do try to act like you're not on heat!" Vulpe said.

"I'm not. Won't be for another century. I just like to fuck." Tamsin smiled at Vulpe and rocked her hips over Sirius. "Often. A lot. In the bed, against the wall, anywhere anyplace at all. . . "

"Oh, for Fafnir's sake, get off him, you slut of a feline," Nuala growled.

"You should worry I'll move onto your cherished Alpha, bitch." Tamsin ran her eye over Malgaunt and he showed his teeth in a snarl. "He looks. . .strong. Able to last a while."

"Detestable little splay-legs!" Nuala hissed, rising up from her seat and tail lashing angrily about her feet. Malgaunt pulled her back down and Tamsin giggled.

"Pretty, we're so pretty, we're so pretty, a-vacant!" Tamsin half spoke, half sang the fragments of Sex Pistols lyrics in a harsh Cockney accent a la Sid Vicious. "I'm so pretty. Mmmhmm. Pretty little me. So, who's this I've got between my legs?"

"A wizard named Sirius Black," Vulpe sighed, settling back on her chair. It was useless to do anything when Tamsin got like this. She knew from experience. Jack still looked like he was about to fly out a window and the wolves were snarling with insulted anger. Damn the cat. The door opened and Tamsin's head swiveled, before she pounced.

"Oof!" Ginny crashed to the floor with a squirming, purring felinely aspected woman on top of her. Tamsin licked up her cheek and nuzzled her neck, a steady buzz of pleasure emanating from her chest and up through her body.

"Cute little flame, of cousin blood. Hmmhmm. . .so sweet, like toffee apple sugar and just as red." Ginny froze under Tamsin and looked around wildly for help. The wolves were no help, they were laughing too hard. Vulpe was much the same. Jack was inching towards a window now Tamsin was occupied with something else, and Sirius was unconscious.

"Someone get her off!"

"But you don't want me to go, oh no, little flame. . .what, first time? Hmm, sweet." Tamsin licked Ginny's neck and the girl squeaked, then yelped as Tamsin's hand slid up her leg. She kicked wildly, trying to get the cat off her. "Meow, sweet girl. Tasty." Draco reached down and pulled Tamsin off and she attached herself to him instead, jumping and wrapping her legs around his waist. "Hey, it's the fox's wild child! So, Ice, want to get warm?"

"You alright?" Draco asked softly, looking at Ginny. She got up off the floor and fixed her skirt, nodding.

"Shocked, little surprised. . .by the pouncing and the jumping. And the licking. And the touching. Actually, rather freaked out by the touching and the licking. And she purred." Ginny put her head in her hands for a moment, then looked up. Tamsin was giggling at her.

"Why, I'm just a kitten, kitten cat. Put me down," she ordered Draco and he let go. She put her feet back on the floor and stalked towards Jack again. He made a noise of frightened protest and ran away, out the Infirmary door. Draco grabbed Tamsin's arm before she could follow and forcibly put her in a seat. "Hey!"

"Leave Jack alone. You're a cat, he's a bird. He's frightened of you, and you're loving it, pushing him to see how far he'll go. How far he'll let you go." Draco looked down at her and Tamsin stared up sulkily, pouting. Ginny watched as Draco seemed almost to grow, an edge of menace filling his voice. This was a side to the Slytherin Prince she'd never seen before, always dismissing him as a spoiled brat, a cold shining star of malice and a wickedly sarcastic tongue. She'd always seen him as an extension of his father; and she was beginning to wonder if everything she'd ever thought about one Draco Malfoy had been tainted by what she had been told to expect of a Malfoy. If any had the burden of a family name, it was Draco. But this. . ."If you want a submissive, you go outside the school. You don't stay here looking for one. And you don't force yourself on someone who is not willing to suffer your attentions. Ever. Or I will find you, and I will make sure that you lose another of your vaulted nine lives."

"You need me, you wouldn't dare," Tamsin hissed into his face, exposing brilliantly pointed fangs behind her human looking lips.

"Watch me, cat," Draco almost whispered, then the aura of dominating power seemed to fall away again, leaving a slightly smirking teen brat in its place. "So, Weasel. Why are you here?"

Jack fled down the corridor, feet not making a sound but his frightened pants echoing around him and sending his fear soaring on batwings of ebony struts and stretched midnight skin. He ran faster, rebounding off a wall as he turned blindly, getting more confused and more panicky the longer he was trapped inside the stone walls. Out, he needed to get out. He ran into a stream of students and that was the last straw.

He collapsed against a wall, shaking and mumbling to himself, arms wrapped around his legs and shoulders hunched. A hand on his shoulder made him flinch, wide black eyes flying upwards in terror. Hermoine stared at him in almost pity, then offered him her hand.

"Need some help?"

"'Mione, leave him," Ron sighed. "He's probably just acting. He's one of those people Malfoy and Snape let in." Jack latched onto Hermoine's hand, slim fingers wrapping around her wrist.

"Please.' A broken little whisper. Hermoine's eyes grabbed his as he looked up at her and she pulled him to his feet unsteadily. "I couldn't get out. The cat. . ."

"Why, what's wrong with a cat?" Hermoine asked gently. Ron snorted and Harry rolled his eyes slightly.

"You don't know what I am? What we all are? Except for Vulpe's little dragon, he's mostly human. I think." Jack frowned for a moment. "If he really does have dragon in his blood, it would explain a lot. . ."

"What are you?" Hermoine prompted gently, pulling him towards the Gryffindor common room, now that classes were over for the day. Dinner wouldn't be served for a few hours, so she had time to get to the bottom of this fascinating little problem. He looked so young. . .so pale and fragile. Even Snape didn't approach this porcelain whiteness and the deep midnight color of his hair. . .Jack looked like he would break with a harsh word. His wrist and his hand had been so slim. . .almost emaciated would be the word she would have used. And he had been light, lighter then someone half his age.

"My name is Jack. Well, that's the short form. Long form, Jackdaw. I'm a bird." Jack tilted his head slightly and looked at her. "Let me show you. . ." He stepped back from her for a second and closed his eyes. A shiver in the reality of what they were looking at and a jackdaw circled for a moment, black wings beating softly before he called out, a lonely, lost sound. Hermoine watched and held her hand out. Jack landed on it lightly, tilting his head and bright eyes regarding her with focus and concentration. Ron snorted.

"He could be an Animagus." The bird shrieked at him, flapping his wings wildly before he flew off Hermione's wrist and landed on the ground. Jack appeared in his human form again.

"Do not speak to me of them! Traitors, all! Wizards, catching the magic and binding it, holding it. So like you humans, you don't understand something so you build cages, cages to keep it in. Keep it there so you can I use /I it. Don't dare this with me, wizard child. I've been around for longer then you. Have watched empires rise and fall, and you think the snake is the worst of your troubles? Blind, all wizards are so blind!" Ron gaped for a moment and Jack turned away wearily. "What's the use? Fly, storm crow. Croak your warning heedlessly. Let the winds carry you and guide you, but what use is a Seer if no one will listen? She didn't. . ."

"She? She who?" Hermoine pressed. Jack caught her hand and pressed the knuckles to his lips, bowing over her hand. She stared at him as he raised his eyes slightly.

"Rowena Ravenclaw. She who stole my heart and the soul of me and my magic. Loved her, I did. Loved her with all my twisted crooked thieving heart. I thought she loved me. She didn't. All she wanted was to use me, learn from me. And when she'd done that. . ." He brought her hand up to his face again and turned it over, blew lightly across her palm. "She plucked my wing feathers and threw me into a storm. I survived. Takes more then that to kill old Jack, but it hurt, dear lady, it hurt bad." Hermoine stared into his eyes, black mirrors reflecting her back onto herself. She couldn't see into his eyes, they were. . .wild, inhuman. Looking into his eyes, you could believe him. So deep. . .they were caught in a tableau until Jack dropped his eyes. Harry made a move forward to get Jack away from Hermoine. Hermoine stopped him.

"If you've been here before. . .show me the Gryffindor common room."

"Well, the one you'd be a-wanting for that would be the fox. She's the one who warmed Godric's bed. Played chess with Salazar. I haunted the skies and called to my lady love, when she was my lady of storms. I didn't talk to them, the earthbound three. I am only a bird. . .but I can show you, lead you." He leaned in close to Hermoine's face, breath whispering over her lips. "Come." He looked at Ron and Harry. "I don't think I want to show you. So rude and impolite little boys, makes my feathers get ruffled. Suspicious and biting, you two are."

"I'm not a boy," Harry said. "And what do you want with Sirius? Why is he here? I thought. . ."

"That he couldn't come back? His death was not a natural death. Like curses, not natural like a slipping away under the water or the horrified gasp as a blade runs through you or slits your throat. So!" Jack made a twist with his hand. "Magic was natural, now it isn't. Come on, lady, my lady of the gentle hands and sweet heart. . ." He smiled at Hermoine flirtatiously and Ron growled.

"Hush, Ron!" Hermoine said. "I'd love to, Jack." He smiled triumphantly, then turned.

"Well, come on! Don't want to be all day about it!"

Draco sat across the bed from Ginny, one leg crossed elegantly across the other, looking bored.

"We're here to stop the world ending."

"What, Voldemort?" Ginny said.

"No, you silly girl," Tamsin said. "He's only influencing the world of wizards. He's not part of the earth, he took himself out of it. Eventually, he'll just go poof!"

"Like a Kansas song," Vulpe added. "Dust in the wi-ind. . ."

"Who's got bets on the lightning boy?" Tamsin asked.

"Got a prophecy," Vulpe said thoughtfully.

"Whose?" Nuala asked.

"Human, but I think it's a true one," Vulpe said.

"And why...you?" Ginny asked.

"Why anyone?" Vulpe said. "One does not ask why the midnight called you, only why it called at all. And here you are, called as well."

"Oh, I'm not-"

"Aren't you?"

Ginny stared at the fox who was smiling, and got to her feet. "I have to go."

They watched her flee, and Draco stretched in his chair. "Explain, fox."

"Oh, she's not for you," Vulpe said. "So don't fret yourself."

Jack led Hermoine deeper into Hogwarts, occasionally humming and whistling to himself. She followed him as he flitted on ahead, feet seeming to barely touch the ground. The robe he was wearing flared as he moved, looking almost like black wings for a moment before the illusion was dispelled. "Onwards, outwards, yes, yes. Upwards! Ad astra!"

"To the stars," Hermoine whispered to herself and Jack turned his head to smile at her.

"The stars. So bright, so pretty and so far above our concerns on this wonderful earth...no matter how many humans try to scar her beyond repairing. Madre, madre..." Jack put his hand on the stonewalls and cooed to them. "Maman, s'il te plait, ouvrez." A groan as the rocks obeyed and shifted apart. Jack ducked inside the hollow that was revealed, and turned to look back at Hermoine. "Coming?"

"Yes..." Hermoine followed him inside. They entered a twisting passageway that turned upwards inexorably, the stone close about their heads and the floor beneath them dry. Images of feathers covered the stones, scratches in the rock and all leading upwards along the corridor like they'd been whirled upwards in a draft and then pressed into the rock to preserve their image for whoever dared the tunnel to see, forever preserved in their floating fanciness. Just a few flicks of lighter color on the wall, but that's all that was needed to present the idea. They were...representations of feathers, a feather scaled down to occasionally a single line that still conveyed all that was needed.

"Here..." Jack turned back to help her up some stairs and then into the room. "Even Rowena...I did not take her here. This was my place, my own shelter in the midst of all this stone and imprisoned magic. This, is mine." Hermoine shaded her eyes slightly as she emerged into a world of light and crystals, air and space.

"Oh..."

And that's it. Until next time, all you crazy cats out there. I'm gonna go get me some coffee, some chocolate and dream of foxes and fire, jackdaws and stormclouds, wolves and hunting, cats and sex-ehness. Or sheikeness. I'm getting fond of the word 'sheike'. It's Ness's fault, her and Revor's. Oh, and I'll definitely dream about Sirius and Draco too. Who knew, there's a desperate little fangirl in me, yearning to break free? Guess what, bitch, you lose! Hoorah for me. I'm the evil twin, the good twin is dead, you hear me? Dead! MWHAHAHAHAHAHA!

If I haven't scared you off, here's hoping for another thrilling installment!

Peace out!

DitzCat.


	8. Encounters

I was just thinking sometimes you listen to a song that just is a character. 'Figured you out' by Nickelback is definitely a Tamsin song. 'Did it my way' is one of Draco's. 'The Great Beyond' by R.E.M is a Jack song. 'Light is on' by Alex Lloyd reminds me of Vulpe. I would loooove to know what songs you think fit the characters in the story. Why not review and tell me?

Vulpe looked at Tamsin. The cat stared back at her, then raised her hand to her mouth and insolently licked along her fingers. "Yeah, fox?"

"I need you to go down to the town," Vulpe said slowly. "There'll be someone there you'll need to meet."

"Oh, really?" Tamsin's golden eyes fixed on Vulpe. "So, which one are you keeping? The Dragon or the Fallen Angel?"

"Excuse me?" Vulpe hissed, ears flicking to lay flat against her skull.

"You heard me, fire fox. Which one?"

'None of your business!"

"The Dragon is pretty...but I don't think he'd suit you. The Fallen Angel would. Darkness to your flame. But I don't know how the Dragon will take it. Dragons are jealous, possessive creatures. Or are you going to take the Black Dog into your bed? Hmm?" Coolly amused tawny eyes met furious red on black. "Hmmhmm..." Vulpe growled at her and Tamsin chuckled.

"Just get out and do what you're meant to!"

"Touchy."

She slipped out of the school grounds in the dawning daylight, a pale golden shadow blending into the morning light like cream into coffee, lightening and swirling around before disappearing. Tail waving gracefully behind her like a flag, Tamsin trotted down to the school. On the way, she breakfasted on a nest of fledglings that drew her attention, all atwitter for their mother before they disappeared smoothly down her throat. She fastidiously cleaned herself before traveling on.

Hogsmeade in the morning was a pleasant little town, full of its own comings and goings, abuzz with gossip and chitchat of an idle or profitable nature. As a place where the magical world could be itself, it was awash with color and dotted with somber wizarding robes on both sexes.

So Tamsin strutted in on two feet, wearing seemingly painted on tan leather hotpants and a cream top that was knotted under her full breasts, and a pair of knee length brown boots. Her tanned skin glowed with vitality, amber eyes gleaming with mischief and sunstreaked brown hair full and long over her shoulders. "Drowning in this darkness within, Trapped by skin, trapped in sin, Tell me I exist, because I feel like Alice, Dreaming I'm alive in the Red King's dream. I've driven the nail into my hand, I've fallen, I've flown, I'm drowning, You're like a memory on my skin, A fantasy on my fingertips..." She sang to the beat of her own drummer, hips swaying sensuously and slim fingers tapping against the leather of her pants, the smoother skin of her leg. She tossed her head, hair spraying outwards in a fan of golden light. "Yeah, yeah, baby, take me home, Invite the darkness inside your door, Dead man walking, I've risen from my grave, Born full scale burning from the pits of hell..."

"Disgraceful!" she heard an older witch mutter, her similarly aged companions agreeing. Tamsin spun, and blew them a kiss.

"Bite me!" She sauntered on, while the old women gasped, then fell to trying to figure out among themselves who she was. "Copper salty crimson aqua vitae, A world of lies, your illusion torn, My life is an atonement for a sin I didn't commit, Moon howling, wolf song, get your lunar groove on." She threw her head back and howled at that line, lips pulled back from razor sharp fangs. "The beast inside, the fury within, Sitting behind innocent eyes, The world is a stage, life's a movie, And everyone wants to be a superstar..."

A voice joined her on the last voice, male and sure. "I'm living death through the night, Breathe into me, bring me to life, Amber eyes, growls, fangs and hisses, Smothering blackness in blood wet kisses." She spun to face her impromptu duet partner, smiling as she saw him. Tall, broad shouldered, red hair and a dragon's tooth earring dangling from one ear. Dragon leather pants too, tough and resilient. Much like her. Eyes warm, flickering with a sly humour. Yes, he wasn't bad at all, at all. He smelt of dragon fire and ashy smoke.

"So, state your name and business, handsome," Tamsin purred. He came over to her and took her hand as she held it out to him, shaking her hand firmly.

"Charlie Weasley. And yours, miss?"

"Tamsin. Just...Tamsin. You know the Displaced?"

"Love 'em. Great band, even if they are muggles."

"Ah, but they're sexy too."

"I'll take your word for it." Tamsin curled her fingers around his, continuing to hold onto him as she smiled. "What brings you to Hogsmeade? Forgive me my curiosity, but you don't exactly seem the type to live here."

"Live here? Oh no, not me. I'm staying at the school for the moment, actually. Hogwarts." With silent agreement, they turned and started for the Three Broomsticks which was nearby so they could sit and talk. "I was told I had to come here this morning to meet someone by a...friend with a fortunetelling bent. She's usually right and it wouldn't take much out of my time, so I did."

"Really? My little brother and sister are students at the school. You might have seen them, they both have hair as red as mine. Ron and Ginny."

'Oh yes. The little candy girl and the best friend of the lightning scarred boy who's supposed to kill the snake." Tamsin's tongue flicked out to taste the upper edge of her lip, pink tip sliding quickly over her smiling mouth. "I don't like snakes. They're so cold." Charlie looked her over carefully as they entered the inn and Rosmerta came up to them, smiling.

"Charlie Weasley, what are you doing in England? I thought you were in Romania with the dragons?" Tamsin looked the woman in the eyes as she was looked over with curiosity. "And I don't think we've met. I'm Rosmerta, the owner of this fine establishment."

"Fine indeed," Tamsin said softly, shifting onto one foot and throwing one hip out slightly as she stood comfortably.

"Someone reported seeing a Golden Breton in the vicinity," Charlie explained. "I haven't found any traces as of yet, but I think that it is a truthful story. I just have to find the dragon before it decides to start hoarding.'

"They do that, those dragons. They're so greedy," Tamsin said. And then Charlie led her to a table, telling Rosmerta to get them two Butterbeers.

"You do like Butterbeer, don't you?" Charlie asked as they sat down.

"Never had it, will try anything at least once," Tamsin said, running her fingers through her hair, fluffing it out. Flame slitted pupils regarded Charlie as he smiled back at her. Interesting.

"So, a friend just...tells you you'll meet someone and you just head down here on the strength of that?" Charlie asked in curiosity. Tamsin nodded, stretching her arms out above her head and pushing her chest out as she arched her back. Almost purring as she notices Charlie's reaction. Slightly glazed eyes and lustful stare, his scent changing to become more...male. Mmm, yeah, she still had it in fucking spades. Couldn't really judge by the people at the mansion, little boys and girls along with repressed teachers, all too afraid to reach out and touch what she was blatantly offering. Hell, if she and this oh so attractive redhead ended up this day by screwing each other's brains out, she'd be a very happy, well fucked kitty by the look of him. And did she mention well fucked? Walking bowlegged until she healed, she was pretty sure. Mmmmmm. A good hard fucking did no one no harm at all, at all. She licked her lips and picked up one of the mugs Rosmerta deposited on the table. "Thanks," Charlie said as he picked up his own.

"No problem, it's what I'm here for," Rosmerta said before, with a last dubious glance at Tamsin, she moved off to take care of her other customers.

"So, why are you staying up at the school?" Charlie asked. "You don't look like a teacher..." Tamsin laughed at that, eyes gleaming and dancing merrily.

"Oh, Pasht no! Not me. Not a student, neither. Just Tamsin."

"So, why...?" Charlie trailed off, staring at her and tilting his head to the side.

"Am at the school? Wildfolk business, wizard, wildfolk, the True Folk, wildfire burning and jay-SUS, I sound like the frigetting fox!" Tamsin frowned slightly and sipped. "Her madness gets in your head like a song you can't turn off, sometimes. Bah. Foxes."

"What?" Charlie queried softly, glancing around the pub and leaning over the table, eyes almost desperately curious. "You're...one of the Wild Folk?"

"Mmmmmhmmmm," Tamsin hummed in agreement. "Hey, this stuff is actually alright. Too much to hope I can get a Tequila Sunrise in here. Cos Tequila is non-magicked and mmmm, so fine! Johnny, Jack and Jose, some of my favourite men, Charlie boy." She sipped from her Butterbeer again, smiling at his gobsmacked expression.

"You're really..."

"I'm a cat, case you're wondering. And there's wolves in the Forbidden Forest, a jackdaw Storm Crow that's flown in and a fox that limped in, bruised and bloody. Because something's rising, something's coming and they pulled me back from my second death rest to help beat it," Tamsin purred, then drank down the rest of her drink. Charlie, eyes lost in realized fantasy, did the same. "So, let's walk and talk, magic man. Or sit and talk, although I think Fox miss could get annoyed with me, even so."

"I was going to go up and talk to Ron and Ginny anyway," Charlie said. "While I was in the area."

"And the wolves can help you track down the dragon you're hunting," Tamsin said with satisfaction. "Let's go then. You've got a broom?"

"Of course."

"We'll take yours, since I walked down. Stalked down. Had myself some breakfast from a nest in the woods since the mother bird had left her little fledges all alone and to themselves. Mmm, tasty!" She licked her lips as they walked to where Charlie had left his broom. He glanced at her and saw she wasn't joking. "I did mention I was a cat, didn't I?' As they got to his broom she shifted down fluidly, tawny streaked body flowing onto the tail end of his broom as he mounted it.

"You should be alright, though I haven't flown with a passenger on the tail for a long while..."

Charlie kicked off from the ground and they soared into the air. Tamsin clung on with her claws, wind streaming past her whiskers and yowled just for the sheer joy of it. This was the only thing she envied the birds. They could fly. Leave the mundane earth behind and leap into the heavens. Charlie chuckled slightly as they flew over the ground before he coasted to a stop outside the gates.

"Charlie Weasley, I'm here to see Ginny and Ron, if it's alright."

"Come in, Mr Weasley,' McGonagall's autocratic voice came from a stone. "How is Romania?"

"Good, I'm here to round up another specimen actually. Might ask Hagrid for a bit of a hand as well, if that's alright with Dumbledore."

"I'm sure it will."

Charlie flew in through the front gates then flew over the lawn to the front hall. He landed neatly and Tamsin jumped off, landing easily. A small redhaired missile in black school robes and a skirt zoomed out of the doors and grabbed him around the waist, hugging him hard.

"CHARLIE!"

"Hey, Ginny," Charlie chuckled, hugging her back then picking her up and pressing her close to him. "Miss me?"

"Oh, all the time. Mmmhmm." Ginny hugged him harder, arms twined around his neck. Tamsin stepped forward, eyes gleaming in spring daylight.

"Sarcastic little miss. Ah me. So, Charlie, this is your sister?"

"Charlie, put me down please." Charlie did so, puzzled by his sister's suddenly stiff tone. Tamsin watched and smiled sensuously, hand on her hip and lashes lowered to hide her eyes. "What are you doing with her?"

"Sweet girl, so unforgiving. Dying has a tendency to scramble my wits. And since that dog made it so hard for me to climb back out the Gate to the land of the living once more..."

"You'd been here for at least a week. That won't cut it as an excuse."

"Ginny?" Charlie asked, eyes glancing between his annoyed sister and the woman he'd met. Tamsin pursed her lips and whistled softly.

"She thinks I'm a baaaaaad kitten. Which I am. But also, not human. Not a wizard. Why should I have to play by your rules?" Tamsin moved quickly, putting both her hands on either side of Ginny's face as she leant her forehead against the girl's and stared into startled brown eyes. "You worshipped cats once. Do you forget, little girl? Because we are animals of shadow and mystery, darkness and magic. Sensuality, music and spiritualism...mixed bag, we are. But we are what we are, candy child." Charlie made a startled move forward and Tamsin dropped her hands, stepping away and feeling old. "Damn but I do feel the earth dragging at my heels today, sweet things." She stretched, bones cracking as she dropped and somersaulted along the ground before rising to her feet and leaping for the roof. Suddenly mischievous amber eyes gleamed down at the two redheads. "Coming?"

Ginny set her jaw stubbornly and then reached up for the hand that hung down. Tamsin pulled her up and over easily, then helped Charlie do the same. The cat winked at them, then took off, running fleetly across the rooftiles on two bare feet. "She is such a brat," Ginny announced. "Ancient feline wisdom, my foot." She started after Tamsin with a tad more care and a determined look on her face. Charlie groaned, cursing the nature of females everywhere and climbed after them. Tamsin led them across and up the rooftops, past birds nests and gargoyles, which hissed and rolled their eyes, stone tongues lolling from between their teeth. The cat slid her hand along one of their jaws, crooning gently and the beast purred with a sound like gravel being ground to dust. A wink, a sway of her hips to Charlie, tongue darting across the soft golden tones of her lips, and Tamsin climbed upwards, finally settling in a corner made by a tower and up jutting roofs as she waited for them to come to her. Ginny arrived first, Charlie watching her in case she fell.

"Ah, beautiful," Tamsin remarked, looking down. "If you can ignore the screaming magics in the walls. But you don't hear them, do you? You have not our ears."

"True," Charlie said, sitting down on the roof tiles and letting Ginny sit in his lap. "Sweet Nimue! What is that?"

And he pointed to a glob of darkness that was rolling across the lawn. Tamsin got to her feet and stepped to the edge of the roof as the wolves started to howl.

"That? That would be one of the Agents of the Outer Dark, the Abyss, the Nothing. So hungry, all of it, every little part so hungry. Wants to eat everything, and it'll do it too, if we don't stop it. Ha! Run, wolves, run!"

Nuala and Malguant were hunting the liquid nothingness, and they soon burst onto the grassy lawn in twin streaks of white and black. Fire crackled and sang about them as they split up to place the darkness between them, fragments of their wild magic arcing and screaming between them and lashing, biting at the Agent with coruscating flares. It screamed and wailed in a voice that was all voices and none, just an imprint of a forgotten nightmare brought to life and here to scare once more. One of the nightmares you forgot what they were as soon as you woke up, but left you white and shaking in sweat-drenched sheets. When you've slept through one of them, you've more then likely been visited by an appendage of the Abyss and should count yourself lucky you awoke. Undevoured.

With a twitch and a wave to the two wizards, Tamsin dived gracefully off the roof of the building, hitting the ground in a coil of fur and muscle. No little timid housecat this, but a lioness golden and gleaming like the sun. The Agent gibbered and squealed as she suddenly appeared before it, and then sent it flying with one well placed swipe of her paw. Four white lines appeared across it and it shrieked in pain. A three twined twist of magic hit it square, and then it exploded with a final scream. Tamsin sat back on her haunches and licked her paw daintily while the wolves lay down and panted.

"And that, dear hearts, is how you dispatch a being of the Outer Dark. Now, does anyone have any more of that scrumptious Butterbeer? I'm simply parched."

Tamsin leaned back on her hand and grinned upwards at the shocked red heads.


	9. Promises

"It what?" Vulpe said seriously to Tamsin.

"Came screaming gibbering through the wards like they was paper," Tamsin said. "Didn't you feel it fall in through a crack between here and Nowhere?"

"I did," Jack said quietly, rocking back and forth slightly as he perched on the edge of a chair. His face looked thin and wan, deep bruises of sleeplessness under his piercing eyes. "The wind wailed its sorrow."

"The earth quivered with terror 'neath our feet," Nuala said, the two wolves curled close around each other, petting and soothing the other with smooth unhurried movements. If they were not so dissimilar in colouring, it would be hard to see where one left off and the other began. As it was, black and white fur merged in a living yin yang symbol. "Mother was afraid, so deathly afraid..."

"And magic stood heart still for a moment, before it breathed again," Vulpe sighed. "It has begun then." Her eyes gleamed as she stood. "I think I may have to leave this place."

"We two will stay," Nuala said.

"This is our territory, we will protect it," Malguant added. "And your two little wizards too."

"All the children," Jack said faintly, staring through the window to a darkening sky studded with stars and swept with cloud. "Old blood runs strongest now. Like calls to like. The Old Ones are awakening, and the wizards will not be able to contain them. Even now, the Hunt stirs and the Horned One snuffs damp rich air. The Seelie and Unseelie Courts stir under their hills and mounds, their stone circles and still pools, their forests and wild places. Creatures long forgotten, peoples long lost awaken to face this threat, this doom upon all magic everywhere and everywhen. What is now, must pass away to what once was. Better, maybe not. But fauns will once more pipe, the Lords and Ladies have their Rades on heath and hill, changelings walk the world of men, centaurs gallop 'cross the unfettered earth, Leviathan stir beneath wild wave. Man has failed the earth, and she will not forget nor forgive." He blinked, and turned back to the group.

"So, the time of Man comes to an end," Tamsin said thoughtfully.

"And the time of Gramarye, Chaos and Eternity once more come," Jack said gravely, putting one hand out to stroke the stone near him. "This will all fall. Many will die. Or change."

"Change into what the earth demands they be," Vulpe said thoughtfully. "What we are."

"Creatures of magic untamed," Malguant sighed. "I thought not to see that time again..."

"Nor did any of us," Tamsin said. "And for now, this must stay between us. No wizard to know. No human. Nothing that is not like us. We swear, in blood." The creatures looked at each other and nodded in accord, before using sharp fang and claw to slice through their skin. Five hands met, blood dripping to join as they swore not to mention this before any one of the wizarding or mortal world, to any who would contravene the oath, any who would tell the chainers of magic that their time was ending and an older time coming back to the fore. They knew, that if it got out, that it would be stopped. The wizards would fight to keep their world as it was, and the critical time where there would be nothing able to stop it had not yet come.

And if Voldemort learned of the power contained in the Abyss, who was to say he would not be so insane as to seek to harness it?

Vulpe crept back into the Slytherin male dormitories and then padded to Draco's bedroom. As a prefect, he had a room to himself. She crawled up onto the bed and shifted back into her human form, completely. No fur, nor hint of fangs. She ignored the slumbering girl next to Draco and leaned down to kiss him on the cheek.

"My Dragon, awake." There was that slide glance of blue beneath closed eyelids, and then Vulpe pushed the girl out of bed. "Get out, fucktoy. There's serious business to be talked about now." The girl hit the ground and opened her mouth to scream.

"Out," Draco said coldly as he sat up

She shut her mouth and scurried out, grabbing her clothes from the chair where they'd been flung. Trying to dress as she ran. Vulpe lay down next to Draco, crawling under the sheets and curling her legs around his.

"It has begun, and more then begun, ice child."

"What has begun?" Draco stroked her hair, running his fingers through the firered strands down to the thin strip of downy near-fur that ran from the nape of her neck to between her shoulder blades. It was just another one of those things which made her unique. The scent of cinnamon and gamey wild animal surrounded his senses as she cuddled into him, all soft curves and flesh overlaying hard muscle and bone. He had met few people as comfortable in their bodies as Vulpe was in hers, but that was the thing, wasn't it? She wasn't people. She was animal, playing at being people and laughing her head off at their collective foolishness as she did so.

"Everything." Vulpe cupped his jaw between her hands and leant in to give him a lingering kiss, fangs nipping delicately at his bottom lip. "I'm leaving to go walkabouts, yarp. Got people to find and new scents to smell. Things to do, me."

Draco could taste the coppery sweetness of his own blood in his mouth. "But...won't you be caught?"

"Me? Pshaw, no! They won't catch me twice. The snake's not quick enough for that, and I know soon he's going to be fried alive by the lightening." She ran claws down his chest, admiring the way red streaks sprang up against his white, white skin. Draco hissed and stretched, lean body toned to a peak of physical fitness by his Quidditch. He placed his hands around the bedhead and she giggled, before leaning down to nip sharply at the curve of his ribcage. He growled softly, as she lapped busily at the blood she'd revealed before looking up at him again. "Consider this a farewell gesture."

"Won't keep me warm enough while you're gone..."

"You'll keep well enough, Ice."

Draco knew he wouldn't. It would be a hard thing to keep his soul alive and his connection to the wild magik thrumming. But he banished those thoughts for later as she gave him a sly look from under her lashes and licked her lips.

Later would be soon enough.

Jack perched on the edge of the ramparts, blank bird eyes staring outwards into the sky. He watched the clouds drift, and fell deeper into them.

Blood. Fire. Running. A brown haired girl raising a sword, her stance determined and her face hidden by a helm of Grecian design, eyes cast into darkness. A white dragon rampant, wings spread and mouth open to reveal gleaming daggers of bone. A black dog chasing a red fox, her tail trailing wildfire on the ground as she went and the dog blackening further as he chased her through them. A glimpse of a grinning face in a thicket of briar roses, red blossoms as scarlet as blood freshly spilled. A snake coiling around a skull, venom green body fat and bloated as it yawned, exposing puffy white dead skin in its mouth. The sound of hooves on the earth, beating, beating...

He straightened as the skies opened up above him, thunder rolling through the clouds. He shook off the rain with a displeased croak, spreading his wings and hopping inside through a window. Carefully, he stepped down, drawing the edges of his cloak closer to him. His hair coiled lankly across his face and he shivered slightly.

There were things coming, great happenings being birthed. Whether they would turned out foul or fair would remain to be seen. Oh yes. And he would see them come.

Whoo! Vulpe's a FOXY lady. As always by now, you should know the drill. Read? Then review!

Also, I messed up a chapter. Tsk. Chapter 8 was put in at chapter 7. Sorry, folks.


	10. Connections

Pfft, this site strips my formatting. Idiot thing. God, that's annoying. Anyway. Onwards! random plug Go see my website! Go and look at it now…now… ::commands thee with feminine wiles::

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Vulpe disappeared into the morning's early gray light, thin red form picking its way across the grass while dew soaked grass tickled her belly fur. She paused once at the edge of the borders, looking back. She was human enough for that. Had been among them long enough for some sense of finality to wear off on her carefree nature. Whether it dulled her edge or kept it sharp would be seen soon enough, when she passed from among them and went far out into the world. There were appointments to keep, people to whisper dreams to and creatures to awaken to their true nature. Things to do. Such things. The pointed muzzle of her fox face swung reluctantly back around as the sun rose inches higher into the sky, brightening the ground around her as she loped away.

And was gone.

With much less fanfare then she arrived, but leaving change stirring and boiling behind her. A flicker of her tail seemed to linger, black tipped red brush streaking glimmers of magic across the damp green grass. Then even that trace faded away into the soft apricot and rose colours of the sunrise.

Draco woke up and turned over in his bed to find it empty. The scent of burnt sugar and cinnamon covered his sheets, and fine red hairs dusted along the white expanses told him that it had not been a dream. Which meant that now she was gone. He sat up, sheets falling to crease around his hips and reached for a scrap of parchment on the bedside table. It was a small yellowing scrap of reused paper, sentences from a Transfiguration essay on the back of it.

_I will return._

And a fox's pawprint emblazoned boldly below.

The Slytherin princeling smiled, then swung his legs out of bed and stretched. Today would be an interesting day. He had a feeling that Tamsin would take advantage of the fox's absence and commence sleeping with anything or anyone that lay down long enough. It was bound to prove interesting.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Jack reclined on the ledge of the Gryffindor window, juggling a trio of small silver balls as he joked around with the girls in the dorm. Hermoine laughed as she watched him play the fool for her amusement, quill idle in her hand and essay for the moment forgotten. The jackdaw grinned, fingers flicking the toys around almost idly.

"So, you see, once I was flying eastwards through the skies of beloved Alba, which of course you now call Britain, and what do I see below me but a troop of Romans? Bah, Romans. No mystery in the souls of that race of soldiers and road builders. They like squares and lines, lines and squares, neat and tidy and boring, luvvies. Never liked them, but ah! Italians are much more fun and lo, their pictures speak to the soul like raindrops across muslin and glass. Flying eastwards, was I, and there were these Romans roaming. One, two, three, four, Ave! You know, how they do. Yes Centurion, no Centurion, Hail Caesar! Julius knew how to treat a bird right though, sleeping his way through Britain just as surely as his armies conquered it and no maidenly tears to be seen until he left! Yah, that was Julie for you…"

"And you were flying eastwards?" Hermoine prompted. Jack grinned and started to juggle the balls with one hand as he leant towards her.

"And I called up a storm and soaked that legion to the skin. Rain, rain, thundering down like stones and twigs!" He pursed his lips slightly as he leant back, nearly falling out the window and still juggling the silver glittering balls in increasing arcs. "I see what is to be, what has been and what is! Jackdaw, stormcrow, Jack o' all trades a' master none, jester, fool! Such things I have seen, and what is to happen is more awesome yet! Ah, la! The beauty of it, like a fire mountain pushing upwards from the earth and the thundering crescendo of an avalanche...earth calls to earth and call thee home to it, deep in the burrow and the fold, the flick and whimsy."

Abruptly, he shifted shape and flew away, the three silver balls falling to the earth far below him as he winged it across the azure sky. Laughing hoarsely in his bird's voice, dark ragged shape against the arch of the heavens. Hermoine laughed and shook her head in amusement. Jack was by far one of the oddest beings she had ever met, and with Harry she had met some very odd ones. There was something kind and gentle about him, a wise gentleness brought out by knowledge of pain. And yet he looked so young. Jack was a paradox, and Hermoine loved puzzles. She thought that the wild creature playing at human would be a puzzle worth a lifetime of study.

Whether she would take that last step outside the world she had been born in was yet to be decided.

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Tamsin crouched on the end of Sirius Black's bed, paws gently kneading the white coverlet as amber eyes surveyed him carefully. It had been eons upon eons since a canine had caught her interest, even an Animagi who turned into one of the creatures she hated most. It had been different once, before humans came. Dog had gone in and cat had stayed out. Domesticity was something that never settled easily on cats and they despised the dogs for so easily taking to what the felines thought was slavery. Use the humans, yes, but to call them Master? Never! A thousand, thousand times no! Yet the dogs had. Tamsin growled a little deep in her throat before creeping up the bed slightly, a golden shadow made solid beside the gentle rise of his leg under the sheets.

But he smelt so good.

It was a very unsettling thing for the cat. Ages of experience told her to stay away from him, except to tease and torment him as she did the other collared dogs of the humans. The dogs had given up their other nature long ago, settling into dull contentment as animals completely and solidly. Foxes, wolves, those canines stayed free and burning brightly with magic. Dogs had for the most part lost their magic entirely.

The cat looked up briefly as the door to the small room off the main infirmary opened. Sirius hadn't woken since he had been pulled through from the other side of death with her. Perhaps the peculiar connection she felt was due to that? She sneezed briefly in disgust, muzzle wrinkled up in feline contempt as the three people she had tagged as Hogwarts answer to the Scoobies crept in. With a silent snarl, she warned them off coming too close. Including little Jack's newest infatuation, the ever so perfect Hermoine Granger. Harry gestured for Hermoine to take the seat placed near the body of the comatose figure that was his godfather, Ron standing near the door and looking ill at ease.

"Sirius..." Harry began, sighed. "'Mione, I don't know what to say."

"Well...I don't know either. If you remember, we didn't get much of a chance to talk," Hermoine said quietly.

Tamsin's tail twitched, flicking from side to side in irritation.

"The thing I would like to know is why Pomfrey lets that thing stay," Ron said, gesturing at Tamsin. Her ears swiveled back in anger, hair starting to rise along the ridge of her back. "I mean..."

"Ron, have you even talked to any of them?" Hermoine interjected, usually calm voice sounding a little stressed. Tricky little undercurrents warning anyone male that this was a woman who was verging on ticked off and it wouldn't be a very good idea to push her into the realm of the very angry. Ron soldiered on regardless.

"No, I don't need to. If they're involved with Malfoy and Snape then-"

"If you haven't noticed, I've been spending a great deal of time with one of them too. His name is Jack. He's a jackdaw, he speaks French poetry and he juggles," Hermoine said in an icy voice. "He brings me wildflowers and shiny stones because they're pretty like I am. He's teaching me air elemental magic." Her eyes burned. "So, Ron. What am I then, if these…things only hang out with Malfoy and his ilk? Maybe I should go and spend some time with the Slytherins. At least they're not hypocritical about their actions."

"Hermoine…" Ron began and she threw her hand up to stop him from speaking.

"I don't want to hear it, Ron. Isn't it about time you and Harry grew up?" She turned on her heel and left. "I'll visit with Sirius later. Once you two are done." Ron looked at Harry, who shrugged slightly.

"She's your girlfriend, not mine."

"Thanks a lot, Harry. You're a real friend, you are."

"Well, you're the one that ticked her off, Ron. I know better then to say things like that to 'Moine." Tamsin ignored the two youths bickering and nuzzled Sirius's hand, darting a rough pink tongue out to taste the salt of his skin.

Somehow, she knew him.

Nudging her triangular head under his slightly cupped hand in a parody of a caress, Tamsin sighed. She'd never had a thing for necrophilia or unconscious partners before. She just plain wasn't interested unless they could respond. And yet...here this man lay. And about the only thing she could think of was jumping his bones. She only demurred because she didn't like the idea of him not knowing exactly what was going on and who it was with him. Playing the substitute or the sex toy was never something she relished. She may be a slut, but she wasn't a whore. It was a fine and subtle distinction, leaving her her self worth, but giving her massive amounts of scope in her behaviour. And he was disrupting everything.

Maybe that was why she wanted to jump him and ride him until he howled like the dog whose skin he borrowed on occasion, unconscious or not.

Closing her eyes, Tamsin settled into a doze as the two boys talked above her head. They didn't try to oust her, so she eavesdropped without feeling any remorse. Not that she would have anyway, because she didn't feel guilt over the things she did. She did what she wanted because she wanted to, and there was never any reason to feel remorse for doing what you want. Cats have a very limited type of morality, mainly concerned with themselves and how other people are allowed to treat them. The idea of other people having opinions or lives that matter hasn't managed to sink in yet.

So, she catnapped and eavesdropped, tail twitching slightly on the coverlet as she tried to puzzle out her own place in the tangle the world had become.


	11. Fury

It was near to midmorning a week later when the first of Vulpe's recruits trickled in. The trot of horse hooves on the ground announced her arrival, wild looking horse with an even wilder woman sitting astride with a crude looking saddle, feet kicked up by the horse's ribs and not in stirrups. One arm carried a shield, and the other carried a javelin. The dull gleam of bronze rather then the sheen of steel decorated her weapons and armour, including the hand axes slung across her shoulder blades and the hilt of the sword at her side. The trail of reins hung from her hand, as she pulled the horse up in front of the gates, sunlight gleaming across her limed hair, standing up in stiff white spikes and the mane of her horse treated the same way. The mare between her legs was a roan, reddy brown hide shining dully in the sun while behind a colt of the same color capered along, his nose marked by a splash of white and beads hung jangling around his neck.

"Lo, we are arrived at journey's end, friend," she said to her horse, wheeling the mare in a tight circle in the dust before the gate. The colt whickered, prancing out of the way. "Let us see then, if our words still open the gate to us, aye?" Raising her spear, she banged on the gates of Hogwarts with the butt of it, raising her voice to wail a word that had not been spoken there for a time upon a time. The gates opened slowly, and she passed through, shoulders rising and falling with the rhythm as her mare trotted, colt following once more behind. Soaring, her voice entered the ears of the students within, calling of war and terror, of triumph and the heart stopping pleasure of a cavalry charge with your sisters beside you and your horse steady between your legs. The thunder of hooves in your ears like the rolling thunder and the screams of war cries bursting from the throats around you and your own, breathing dust and the first wet swing of a sword into flesh.

"_Kekekekekeke, my sister, my sister, I call to you from the back of my horse -_

_Lo, see how our foe flees before us like leaves before the storm -_

_In the name of the god, we are the riders, the warriors, the soul-slayers –_

_Soul-reaver, free woman, raise your sword high, oh my sister –_

_Axes to hand, oh my sister-herd kindred, my lover, my sister –_

_We are the free women of the plains, dear sister, my lover –_

_We ride free with no man's hand to deter us, we ride them under the hooves of our steeds –_

_See, how they run then before the might of us women, the riders, soul-reavers –_

The rabbit to our wolf, we hunt them across the plains with the eagle flying above – 

_Know me, my sisters, and sing me to a victory, a death in battle with blood painted on my hands –_

_Aieeeeeeeee, my sisters, we ride forth in victory, the scalps of our enemies attached to our saddles –_

_Grant me honour and victory, no cities for me, wide plains, open sky and good riding-_

_No weakness, no faltering, onwards ride we, the thundering storm clouds_..." she sang in a voice as fierce as a hawk's shriek or the howl of the wolf pack in winter, images clear even though she sang in a language older then the stones of Hogwarts itself and not in English. Her song dipped and soared, ancient syllables ringing out harshly in time to the hoof falls of her horse. The colt almost seemed to dance a counterpoint, younger lighter hooves falling with a different note on the earth. The mare tossed her head and whinnied shrilly in challenge as the woman cut her song short, pulling her to a halt so the horse reared, fighting the bit in her mouth and dancing back on her hind legs.

"Eeeyah, my friend, we shall wait and see what they say before we strike," the woman counseled, letting her horse find its feet once more, blowing nervously and snorting at the calm Dumbledore. The murmur of students could be heard clearly, pale faces and palms pressed to the windows and black uniforms shrouding the rest of them. It almost looked like ghosts were clamoring there, watching the meeting. "I have come. The fox calls, she speak the madspeak of the gods and calls forth an army, to be the one of which is I, the daughter of the herds, sister of the wolves, and cousin to the eagles. Lo, forth do I come when all is peace, to cry out the way of war that is coming, the blood thundering to be spilt on thirsting earth." The colt approached Dumbledore curiously as the woman spoke, snuffing the hem of his robes where they trailed on the ground before leaping away like a young deer with a kick and toss of his head. She watched with amused forbearance, voice lilting through her words like she was still singing. "I have come, to teach two. One claimed by lightning and a girl, who I do not yet know who it is. The boy who tasted death and survived, curse bloodbought free by mother love and facing to human evil, do I come to teach the way of the warrior on foot. The girl who will follow me as herd-sister, war-cryer, soul-reaver free and beautiful as the towering storm, I have been told I will find here. She will be as my daughter, the one I will not bear from my flesh and my womb, as I will not suffer a man to touch me. Virgin and resolute, I stand apart independent. This is my sister the horse and her son, who is to befriend my daughter-heir. Their names are," she whickered twice, two distinct separate sounds. Both horses' ears pricked up. "But since you speak not truth, rather in split tongue and not as animals, you may call them Shining-Sunset and Blood-On-Steel. I am...Fury. I will make camp now." She turned the horse away to ride around the corner of the castle and head for the Forbidden Forest.

"I would like to talk with you more fully on what you plan to do in my school," Dumbledore said softly but with steel running through his voice.

"Talker, old man, we can talktalk tonight. I have ridden far today and my sister must rest. Her son's hooves are young, and we traveled over paths ungrassed and stony today. Tonight!" She kicked the horse in the ribs and galloped away, the colt wheeling to flee after his mother. At the edge of the forest, she did not pause but continued her wild gallop in. Two forms could be seen there briefly to meet her, one black, one white. The wolves howled to welcome their kindred into the forest and the mare screamed challenge and greeting in return. The woman's wild howling yell silenced even the animals, before the Forest was hushed once more. Seeming to have swallowed them whole.

Fury walked up to the school alone when it came time for dinner, armed to the teeth and hair brushed up into the lime-stiffened spikes. She looked barbaric and wondrous, something ancient and powerful walking the earth in a world that refused to recognize her possible power and just saw crudity and savagery instead of the very imperative life she embodied. Pushing open the doors, she stalked into the Great Hall, looking neither to right or left where the students had sat down for dinner. They boomed shut behind her, as she kept her eyes lifted to where the teachers sat at the top table, while side to side the students were gradually working themselves into an uproar of curious speculation. Who was she? Where had she come from?

Tamsin lurked in an upper nook; tail lashing while Jack turned his eyes from the warrior woman and looked at Hermoine instead. Draco hushed Blaise with one hand, looking at the newest arrival to Hogwarts, eyes bright with curiosity and speculation as to what she was and what she doing here. The black haired girl quieted, pursing her lips slightly and provoking her sometimes boyfriend, one of the other Slytherins, to lean over and kiss her softly. She wriggled across the bench to sit in his lap, small enough to do so comfortably, placing one arm around his neck and leaning against him as she watched the barefooted woman measure her stately progress across the floor to stand in front of the stairs that led up to the staff table.

She stood there, one hand fingering the hilt of the sword at her side and looked upwards, nodding slightly at McGonagall before her eyes continued to Snape, then back to Dumbledore where he sat in the middle.

"As I have said, so I have come."

"So we can see..." Dumbledore steepled his fingers and looked at her over them, aged eyes steady. "Will you come up and be seated at the table, Fury? We offer meat, salt, fire and drink."

"You know the guest rights then. It is good that not all old ways have passed from this world you wizards have made. I will, and feel right welcome." Fury stalked up to the dais, seating herself at the empty seat next to Snape. She sprawled there, unconcerned at the look he gave her, obviously nursing a secret amusement at all the goings on and commotion she had caused. "Ah, so you are the fox's soul. I can see it...in your eyes. She's sunk her wildfire deep on you, it's painted visible, dark one." She reached out a hand languidly and picked up the goblet, sipping approvingly from the liquid contained therein. It smelt faintly of berries and sunshine, staining her lips a dark red as Snape stared at her coldly.

"I am sure I do not know what you mean-"

"Which doesn't mean it's not truth, shadow man. Lady hawk there would understand my thoughts. The wolves told me of thee, how goes it?" Fury turned her attention to Hooch, smiling faintly.

"It goes well, warrior," Hooch said, stabbing at her meal with a fork. "I teach the children what it is to have wings."

"Ah, to fly. You have spoken with the storm crow then?"

"No, he seems quite...afraid of me, rather. No matter. If he decides my ancestry is reason to fear, then who am I to quibble? He fears the cat and the wolves also, even if the fox has his uneasy friendship. I think that is more a matter of them both being seers, of different kinds, then anything else. Ha!" Hooch managed to spear the bite of food she'd been chasing around the plate and put it in her mouth triumphantly. Fury chuckled.

"Nay a thing escapes a hawk."

"Or the warrior on horseback, I think," Hooch said. "It's been a while, Rhiannon."

"Ha, that's a name I had once! Bridgit, Rhiannon...Maiden Warrior, one of the Three and all in One." She sipped reflectively. "Wizards forget what was, before the magic surrendered into their hands. The paths of blood and bone and soul, magic hard bought instead of...ah, a plaything." She flicked her fingers then took her beltknife and started to saw the bread on her plate, cutting a piece of meat to lay along it. "I have come to teach. Warrior ways, swordplay, the way of the warrior on foot to the boy famous for surviving Dark Magics. Horses are women's pathways." She sniffed irritably, and then gulped down more of the berry-scented crimson whatever it was she was drinking. "Men."

McGonagall chuckled slightly, daintily eating her food before she put her cutlery down and lifted her goblet to sip. "So, what brought you here...now? Not to be rude, but it does seem rather odd."

"Fox asked, I come. Sister horse says yes, she take me here and her son thinks it will be fun. Fun! Colts." Fury blew air through her lips like an irritated horse, making a noise of aggravated inunderstanding. "Already, he tries to sniff an adder as we walk on the roads made by man to make his unheeding way. Cutting across the path of the sisters and brothers, breaking sacred places into scattered pieces. It is not right, what has come to pass. We...made a bad choice." Brooding now, she sipped from the goblet, flat wild stare fixed on McGonagall. "But what is done is done and may not be undone, unless what the Darkness has planned comes to pass. After meal, I talk with lightning boy and speak with girls. My successor is here, and I have come to find her. Her, I will teach the way of the horse, and of the wolf, and of the storm. Ha! It is good, that at last she is born."

"May I ask, how long you have been looking?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

"A long time. Long enough for me to want to lay down and rest, as my sister's mothers have done as time went by." Fury fixed Dumbledore with a sword-edged stare. "Long enough, wizard, as have we all those who have seen time pass from time to time." The dinner went on, Fury replying in her own fashion to all questions that were put to her before it was over and the students were starting to file out. The warrior woman jumped the dais edge and landed on the floor as silently as any cat, armour not making a sound around her as she stalked towards the crowd of black robed adolescents. Draco confronted her, eerie silver eyes fixed on hers.

"You've come from Vulpe?"

"The child of ice..." Fury almost purred, giving him a look up and down. "If you were a girl...my search would be over. She could sense it in you, that spark. Come here, adopted of the wildfire and let me know you." She took his shoulders and blew briefly at his mouth and nose; startled, Draco coughed and she hummed thoughtfully. "Indeed...she knows her worth when she sees it, blizzard unforgiving. Tread most carefully, little dragon, you aren't quite grown into what you need to be in the times ahead."

Draco stared into her suddenly ancient eyes and wondered about whether there was a grain of truth in that old saying that eyes were the windows to the soul, and what she saw reflected in his. "If you're looking for Potter, he's the one with the scruffy black hair next to the red headed gowk and the frizzy haired girl." Again that whisper of warm breath, smelling like sunwarmed strawberries and other summer type things when he'd been expecting maybe the sweet corrupted smell of old blood. He swayed in slightly, eyes dipping closed and then she was gone, leaving him feeling dazed. Blaise sidled up to him, slipping one arm around his waist as she blinked after the towering woman.

"Well, well."

"Stuff it, Zabini." He ruffled her hair with one hand and ignored her squeals of indignation, narrowly dodging the spiked heel to his instep as he sauntered away. Grabbing the other members of the Slytherin Quidditch team, he started talking Quidditch with them, planning Gryffindor's eventual downfall. If Fury did what he thought she would do, the amazing Potter would have no time for fun and games. She'd work him to the bone, bawling him out in a sergeant's top parade ground voice and snapping at his heels. And she wouldn't cut him an inch of slack because of what he was and what he'd done; she'd just work him harder.

And that, Draco found a very happy thought indeed.

"Eeeyah, what I have to work with? Warrior am I, not miracle worker," Fury muttered in disgust, looking Harry up and down and crossing her arms, hips cocked askew. The sword at her side fell with the pleats of her skirt before she heaved another sigh. "Stand up, boy, and let Fury think about where she must begin to teach you how to survive."

"Excuse me?" Harry said in some disbelief. Fury hit him low and hard in the stomach with one clenched fist, before bringing her armour-plated knee up to meet his head as it came down, breath knocked out of him in a painful whoosh.

"We shall get this settled here now, little boy," Fury told him, grabbing his hair in one hand easily as Harry gasped for breath and his eyes watered. The sword that had appeared in her hand warned Ron and Hermoine off, and Jack clung to Hermoine's wand hand, pleading with her not to get involved as his breath hitched and he stuttered with fear. He knew her, the Fury. And he didn't want Hermoine involved – though Ron could get himself killed for all the jackdaw cared. "I teach you the ways of the sword, so that when you face the snake in the grass next, you can run him through with the lion's sword. I am helping you, wizard. Don't forget it." She shook him roughly then dropped him on his feet, turning to face McGonagall as the woman halted next to her, slightly out of breath. "He rises at dawn, I teach him. Toughen him up. He will win, when I'm through with training believe me, sister heart." She grinned at McGonagall, and then cheerfully continued, "and if he isn't out on the lawns at dawn, I will come and fetch him, yes? Then he can go swimming in the lake. I think it is cold at this time of year."

"You can't just-"

"I believe I just did." The lights in the Great Hall dipped and swayed as Fury stared McGonagall down. "He is the Boy-Who-Lived. I teach him to keep living. So. Training. Run, dodge, fight, swords, without swords, box, swim, but not ride horse. Horses are women's business. When I am done with him, he will be a warrior. You teach him wand waving; I'll teach him how to live without a silly piece of stick in his hand."

"Cat, stop it," Jack whispered, looking at the increasingly irate teacher. "Some immortals don't play by your rules, know it do I. Maiden, quiet your ire. The boy will come."

"I was not joking about the lake if you do not show," Fury told Harry and then swung around to go. Stopped stock still as she saw Luna and stared. Above the hall, Tamsin shifted uneasily, leaning forward and sharp eyes taking in the reactions of the people around as Fury lunged forward, grabbing Luna by the shoulders and kissing her hard. Fury felt the cry of surprise against her lips and pressed her kiss deeper, unforgiving metal breastplate digging into the softness of the girl who had called to her from behind the pieces of glass. She bit down on her own tongue hard, blood welling to the self-inflicted cut and staining both their lips and down their chins as she forced Luna to swallow it. Good girl, good girl, the warrior crooned softly to herself as she felt the muscles in the girl's throat work, and knowing what was starting to work.

Magic worked so much better when it was bought with blood. Made much more sense. Wizards. Always thinking they should get something for nothing, just a few words and a swish of a wand. Nothing that was worth any trouble, no sacrifice for what it was they wielded. Even birth came with pain and blood and screaming. Why should something as important as magic be any different?

She broke the violent kiss with a gasp, licking her lips free of blood while Luna looked at her dazedly, crimson a violent shout across her mouth.

"Mine," Fury told her with satisfaction, one arm held loosely around her waist. "I have been waiting for you for such a long time, child. Longer then you could think. Thank you, seer, for preventing them from separating us until what was needed to be done was complete," she added, turning to look at Jack, then eyes sweeping across to look at Tamsin who had dropped from her perch above the hall to help Jack make sure Fury wasn't pulled away. The cat nodded and smiled, honey blonde hair shining in the candlelight. Fury smiled back, recognizing a woman she'd fought beside before and was glad to see here.

"I can...I can see!" Luna said in astonishment, taking the no longer needed glasses off her face.

"One of the gifts of the Goddess is healing, child. A perfect vessel is better then a slightly flawed one, and you are...perfect," Fury murmured, brushing a thumb across Luna's cheek. "You were born to be this. Do not forget it." Her voice dropped from English to a harsher more guttural language, rhythmic music singing through it. "We are the thunder riding the edges of the storm. We are of the Herd, and we are of the Pack, and of the Flight. We are kin to every woman, and we are warriors." Slowly, Fury stepped away and Luna swayed after her, hand reaching out to touch and bring the older woman back. "Tomorrow. Cat, come walk with me and tell me of this place more then the fox did."

Tamsin curled into Fury's side, wriggling her ass as a sword calloused hand slid down to cup one rounded cheek and the two started to walk out, ignoring the chaos behind them. Luna stared after them, blood burning with a knowledge that was sliding into her veins and a queer sick sort of jealousy that Tamsin walked out with Fury and she didn't. Slowly, she licked her lips and ignored the questions that were shrilling around her from Hermoine, and then the boys of the Dream Team, and then from every other person in her place. She grabbed her books from where she'd dropped them and ran out of the hall, leaving her glasses on the floor and seeing perfectly for the first time in her life. Just not what she wanted to see in front of her.

All that night, she tossed and turned with restless dreaming. Flashes of wide open plains, dry grass as spread out as the ocean. The cut view that appeared through the eye slits of a helmet. A foal being birthed in a gush of blood and birth fluids to land on dry dust as its mother stood patiently, head down and back legs splayed. An army before her, banging swords on their shields and booming warcries as they marched. A battlefield after the fact, crows circling lazily on the wind and bodies scattered like autumn leaves. A sword, glowing red hot on the smithy's anvil. Dark, kohl lined eyes smiling through the dark and a fall of long black hair. The inside of a tent, cloistered dark and warm, like the return to a womb. Many things did the newly chosen warrior maiden see, and she remembered few of them on waking. But enough to know she was irrevocably changed, far beyond the healing of her sight on the purely physical level.

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I'm begging for reviews here, people. Please, if you're reading and you like this, tell me. And if you're reading and you don't, tell me anyway! I want to know, because I haven't gotten a lot of feedback on this one and I think it's better then the other stuff I've written. You're reading? Review! And make me happy. And I won't let Fury kill you.


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